Second Chances
by Emador
Summary: After murdering two men in self-defense, Callie faces the hell of Bellevue before Morris breaks her out. Will she be able to hide from the cops with the newsies, despite the press of the strike?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is the first time I've started posting a story without having completed it offline first. It makes me a little nervous, but my goal is to not make y'all wait too long for an ending! Enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

 _June 1899_

Over the years, Morris had learned to tune out the banter of the newsies downstairs. Every morning as his brother and Wiesel sold the newsies their papers, Morris ran the upstairs office. Not a single copy of _The New York World_ left the building without Morris's approval. He kept track of how many papers were sent out on each wagon to various parts of the city and made sure their profits from the newsies matched those numbers. It was a nice arrangement - he didn't have to interact with the newsies, and he was better at numbers than his brother.

On that particular day, however, Morris kept his window open, listening to the newsies, hoping to hear news of Callie.

"Mornin' Weasel."

"Spot me twenty papes, eh, Weasel?"

"Why so glum, Oscar?"

Then it was the lack of banter that caught Morris's attention more than anything the newsies said. Silence fell over the circulation yard. Morris got up from his desk and walked over to the window to see all the newsies staring at a familiar figure walking through the circulation yard. Morris immediately stepped over to his door and whistled for his errand boy.

"Hey, Spot," said Jack, seeing the Brooklyn leader walk toward him. He spit in his palm.

"Hey Jack. We need to talk." Spot spit in his palm and the two boys shook. Spot cut the line and set his money down to buy his papes just as Morris' errand boy reached Wiesel.

"Sorry, kid," said Wiesel. "You're wanted upstairs before I can give ya your papes."

"What?" Spot asked. He glanced up and saw Morris in the window. Not used to being summoned anywhere, he stayed where he was. "If anyone wants a word with me, they can come to Brooklyn."

"Then that's where you can get your papes too," said Wiesel, pushing Spot's quarter towards him.

Spot stared Wiesel down for a moment before he took his quarter and walked to the side door of the building and yanked it open. The staircase going up was narrow and ended on a landing where the door on his left would take him to the rest of the _World_ building and the door on his right would take him to—

"Morris," Spot said evenly as Morris opened the door.

"Spot," Morris acknowledged, opening the door wider.

Spot walked into the office and looked around before he made himself at home, planting himself in one of the plush chairs in front of Morris's desk.

Morris walked over to his desk where a small pile of week-old newspaper pages sat - all of them folded to display certain articles. He disregarded those on top and picked up the bottom one where a bold headline above the fold read, "Two Men Murdered; Girl Suspected."

"You wanna explain this?" Morris asked.

"Pulitzer's headline writers were on vacation?"

Morris threw down the paper. "You think this is a joke?"

"You know I don't."

"Why was she in Manhattan?"

"She left Brooklyn."

"When?"

Spot nodded his head at the paper. "Probably a couple hours before that happened."

"Why?"

Spot didn't say anything.

"You were supposed to be taking care of her."

"She took down two grown men on her own. She don't need anyone taking care of her."

Morris sighed, skimming the articles he'd read and reread until he'd nearly had them memorized. "Witnesses say that it was an unprovoked attack," he said. "'Blood had flowed out of the alley to the street.' 'The coroner required assistance to remove the knife from bone.' 'The girl in question, one Calliope Stamos, was taken to the Bellevue Pavilion for the Insane to undergo evaluation and treatment before her trial.'" Morris looked up after reading excerpts. "We both know she is not crazy."

"You know how it works, Delancey," said Spot. "For crimes like that, they're all sent to the Bellevue before they're sent to jail, the asylum, or turned back onto the streets."

"She should've been sent to the Refuge, not Bellevue."

Spot watched Morris for a bit. "It ain't like she was caught sleepin' in doorways or stealin' food. She murdered two men. In self-defense, no doubt, but they don't care about that. All they care about is some girl on the street murdered two grown men."

"Why the hell would you let her walk around the Lower East Side alone at night?"

Spot's frown, which had been a permanent fixture on his face since he'd walked in, deepened. He stood up to his full height - which was still several inches shorter than Morris - and stepped forward. "What happens on my turf is my business," he said. "Anywhere else is outta my hands." He turned and walked toward the door.

"So that's it?" asked Morris. "You'll swim the river to Randall's Island to bust out your own fellas, but you're gonna let Callie rot in that place?"

Spot hesitated only a beat before he opened the door and walked out.


	2. Chapter 2

The cinderblock wasn't enough to drown out the screams and inane ramblings of the residents - both temporary and permanent - of Bellevue's Pavilion for the Insane. Behind each iron door was a case sadder and more hopeless than the one before.

The small viewing door in Callie's door slid open. "The doctor's coming in, Stamos. You behave!" said the guard. The sound of the lock turning echoed throughout the small room and was soon replaced with the loud squeak of the rusted hinges.

Callie lay on the dirty cot facing the wall, not caring who came in. The white shift she'd been given to wear when she arrived was stained dark grey with black splotches all over. Her blonde hair was matted and filthy.

"Miss Stamos?" came a soft, professional voice.

"What," said Callie, not caring enough to put any inflection in her voice to make it a question.

"I'm Dr. Fulton. I'm here to talk to you."

"I already told my story to the other doctors."

"Yes, I know," said Dr. Fulton. "I'm new here, so I'm afraid you'll have to repeat the story for me again."

Callie rolled onto her back and saw the middle-aged doctor with a soft face. The kind of face that made you want to trust him - but Callie was past that. With every face that came into her cell, she trusted the world less and less.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you tell me about the night in the alley?"

"Just like I told the policemen, the detectives, and the other doctors. Those two men tried to rape me. One of them grabbed me as I was walkin' down the street and the other was waiting in the alley. I kicked and tried to scream, but they pressed me up against the wall and shoved a rag in my mouth. I pulled my knife and defendeded myself the only way I know how."

The doctor looked at his folder and the pages of notes inside. "The coroner's report said you'd stabbed the knife so far into bone that the coroner needed assistance in getting it out."

"Guess I'm good at defending myself."

"Unusual strength for a girl of your size. At least for one in full possession of her faculties."

"You know, if I was a fella, I'd already be in the Refuge servin' my five to ten. But because I'm a girl, I _must_ be crazy to have killed, right?"

Dr. Fulton was quiet for a moment. "Are you aware that one of the two gentleman you killed was a city attorney?"

"One less corrupt official."

"Upstanding gentlemen like that don't attack young women in alleyways."

Callie snorted. "If you believe that, then I've got a bridge to sell you."

Dr. Fulton sighed. "You realize this doesn't bode well for your trial, Miss Stamos. If the other doctors and I testify that you are sane, they will lock you up. You will likely be executed before you get the chance to apply for parole."

"I'm not crazy."

"I can see that."

Callie looked over at him, mild surprise on her face. Dr. Fulton was the first person to have seemed to side with her.

"However, if we testify that you are not sane, you'll be able to stay here and live out your days like this." He gestured to the cell around them.

"No," said Callie, sitting up and fear flashing in her eyes. "No. Testify that I'm sane. I'll take being executed over anymore of this."

"Miss Stamos, this is a very reputable facility."

"This place is hell."

"It may seem like it to the ill mind."

Callie frowned at him. "I'm. Not. Crazy."

Dr. Fulton turned and opened the iron door once more. "I'm doing this for your own good, Miss Stamos."

"No!"

Dr. Fulton stepped out of the room and closed the door. Callie rushed to the door to yank it open, but the guard on the other side had locked it just in time. Callie pounded her fists on the door, screaming.


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing in New York City got done without the exchange of money or favors. Both had been required for Morris to convince one of his old school friends, who just happened to be a guard at Bellevue, to let him in once the night shift had begun.

"Who's this?"

"A buddy of mine. He's thinkin' about gettin' himself a job there."

A chuckle. "He's heard the perks of the night shift, eh?"

A shared chuckle.

"Hey, where's O'Malley tonight?"

"Sick."

A hand reached to O'Malley's cubby and grabbed his uniform jacket. "Here." The jacket was handed to Morris. "Put this on so I won't get in trouble."

Morris took the jacket and put it on. He followed the two on their rounds as they opened the viewing door in the iron doors, checking in on patients at random. All was quiet on that particular floor.

"You two go ahead," said the guard, stopping at one door. "I think a bed check is in order."

Morris frowned as the man adjusted his waistband and unlocked the iron door. Morris and his school friend continued walking.

"The women's ward is the next floor up," said his friend, unhooking his keys from his belt. He unlatched the metal loop and slid off the key that would unlock Callie's cell. "The rest of the payment better be in my mail slot in the morning, or I'll tell the cops right where to find her. And you."

"Thanks," said Morris. "Oscar will drop it off before you even get home in the morning." His friend gave him a nod and pointed him in the right direction to the stairs.

Morris did his best to look like any other guard making his rounds as he felt his heart pound and a light sweat break out on his forehead. One wrong move and he would be locked up. One wrong move after he got Callie, and there would be no hope for her. He made his way up the stairs and squinted at the faded numbers on each door, looking for Callie's. He quickly found the right door and unlocked it.

Morris slowly pushed the iron door open, squinting in the dark. Moonlight came in through the small window near the ceiling, giving him just enough light to be horrified by what he saw. The room couldn't have been more than six feet by ten feet. A dented chamber pot peaked out from underneath the rusted cot with a thin mattress and dirty blanket. A young woman laid in the bed, her once-white shift now a dark gray.

"I won't fight you if you make it quick."

Morris immediately recognized Callie's voice, but it was different. It was the resigned voice of a young woman who knew what was coming and knew there was no use in trying to stop it; who accepted the irony that by defending herself against being assaulted she'd landed herself in a place where she was assaulted every night. The thought made Morris's stomach turn.

"Callie."

Callie was still for a few moments before she rolled onto her back, turning towards him. He stepped forward and took a knee next to her cot. In the moonlight, he could see her eyes, but they weren't excited - they were just dead.

"The nurse said the chloral might give me dreams like this."

"Callie, this isn't a dream." Morris put his hand on her cheek, lightly brushing it with his thumb. "I'm here to get you out, but we need to hurry."

Callie slowly sat up. "I can't move very fast."

Morris nodded. "That's fine. But we gotta get moving. Oscar has a carriage waiting out the side door."

Callie stood up and Morris took her by the arm and lifted her up, wanting to hurry her along as quickly, but as gently as he could.

"Keep your head down," he whispered. Callie did as she was told, not allowing herself to get her hopes up quite yet. They had a ways to go until they were even out of the building, and Callie fully expected to get caught before then. She shuffled along as quickly as she could - which wasn't very quick under the effects of the drug she'd been given - and kept her head down, allowing Morris to lead her through the maze of the hospital.

They walked down several flights of stairs before they were stopped.

"Where you taking this one?" asked a guard. Callie stiffened at the voice, recognizing one of the night shift guards who'd visited her more than once.

"The doctor wanted to see her," Morris bluffed.

"That new one? He's still here?" Morris nodded. "Probably wants a taste for himself. Prescribe a 'special treatment,' right?" He chuckled lewdly, giving Callie a swat on the bum before moving on, not giving them a second thought.

Morris gently pulled her arm and Callie followed. It wasn't until she felt the cool night air on her skin that she realized this plan might actually work. She dared a glance up and saw a carriage waiting at the curb.

Shouts came from the building behind them. Morris pulled her a little more urgently. The empty cell had been discovered.

Oscar, sitting atop in the driver's seat, urgently gestured them forward. Morris pulled Callie, lifting her into the carriage and quickly getting in next to her. The door hadn't even shut before Oscar whipped the reins and they were off, bumping along the cobblestone.

Morris shed the uniform jacket and tossed it to the street. Callie looked out the back window, seeing the hospital retreat in the distance. "I'm free," she whispered.

Morris put his arm around her and held her close. "You're safe now."


	4. Chapter 4

Callie was awake before she even opened her eyes. She knew she was dreaming, and wanted to hold onto the feeling - the feeling of the soft bed beneath her, the soft nightgown, and the smell of Morris' aftershave on the pillow.

The last observation made her brow furrow and she opened her eyes. The effect of the chloral having worn off, she was wide awake and well aware. She quickly looked around, letting the events of the night before come back to her in pieces - Morris coming into her cell and the carriage ride to his apartment; Morris making her a sandwich and filling his tub as she ate; the gloriously hot bath, letting all the dirt and grime of the hospital wash away.

The small bedroom consisted of little else than the small bed and a chair next to the bed that served as a nightstand. She pushed the covers off and ran her fingers through her hair, still slightly damp from the night before, quickly braiding it. She looked down and saw the soft nightgown of her dream was a shirt of Morris's. She walked out of the bedroom into the small living space that served as the kitchen, dining room, and living room.

She'd only ever seen the outside of his building, never the inside of his apartment. She'd always imagined him in a larger space. Aside from the bedroom and windows, it was little better than the tenements that lined the streets of downtown. She had no clue where Morris had slept the night before - her last memory was him shutting the bedroom door after putting the blanket over her as she drifted off to sleep in his bed.

"Good morning," Morris said, looking up from his breakfast. A newspaper sat next to his plate. He gave her a once over, the sight of her in his shirt giving him thoughts better not dwelt on.

"Hi," she said, running a hand over her hair.

He nodded at the stove. "I made extra if you want it," he said.

"Oscar won't?"

Morris shook his head. "He moved back in with our parents."

Callie knew there was a story there, but was too hungry to ask. She walked over to the stove and dished up the remainder of the eggs and bacon. "I thought you'd be at work already," she said.

"The morning edition is already out," said Morris. "They can survive without me until the afternoon edition."

Callie sat across from him at the table and started eating.

"So," said Morris, spearing a bit of egg with his fork. "Why were you wandering Manhattan alone at night?"

Callie looked up at him. He certainly was one for getting to the point. She didn't rush to answer his question, having told and retold the story more than she cared. She took her time eating a few bites before answering. "I had to get out of Brooklyn," she said. "I lost my way."

"What happened with Spot?"

Callie looked down at her breakfast, spearing a few bits of egg, trying to get as many on her fork as possible. "Things didn't work out."

Morris furrowed his brow slightly. She was avoiding the truth, but he knew that pushing it would only make her clam up more.

There were several moments of awkward silence. "Thank you," she said softly. She looked up at him. Their eyes connected in a rare tender moment between them. "For last night." He gave her a small smile. "You are one crazy son of a bitch for trying something like that. But I'm glad you did."

"Me too."

Callie took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the remains of her breakfast. "An escape from Bellevue is gonna make all the papes for a while. They're gonna be lookin' for me." Callie scooped up her last bite and chewed slowly. "I need to find somewhere to lay low for a while."

"You can stay here."

Callie gave him a _don't push it_ look as she collected their dishes and took them to the sink. He helped her escape Bellevue, put her up for the night, and made breakfast - the least she could do was wash his dishes for him.

"See? You're already makin' yourself at home." He turned slightly in his chair, watching her do the dishes, still dressed in naught but his shirt.

"I think I'm gonna go talk to Jack Kelly today."

Morris's grin disappeared. "Why?"

"Who else on the streets of New York is so well-practiced at hiding from the cops?" she asked. "No one gives newsies a second glance." She shrugged. "Maybe I'll hide out with them."

"And that's a better solution than just stayin' here?"

"That and dyein' my hair."

Morris cocked an eyebrow. "And where are you gonna get the money to do that? You gonna walk the streets pickpocketing until you make enough money? How long until someone recognizes you?"

"It ain't like they put my mugshot in the papes. I just gotta avoid cops." By now her mugshot had likely been distributed to every precinct in the city. It was a lucky break they hadn't printed her mugshot - had they, then every newsie in the city would've either recognized her or have her face memorized from exposure alone. As it were, Callie was glad she'd only ever shared her full name with a handful of confidants. No newsie would ever equate Callie from Brooklyn with famed murderess Calliope Stamos.

"Callie, just stay here."

Callie dried the last dish and turned around, wiping her hands. "Until what? We get back together? Then have another blow up six months after that? Either way I'll end up with the newsies eventually."

Morris watched her for a few beats. "It won't end like that again."

Callie set the towel down and walked over, sitting across from him once more. "Morris, I appreciate what you did for me," she said. "It was crazy and brave and you probably saved my life. But we're not getting back together."

"Callie, I've changed," he said, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "It won't end like it did last time."

"I can see that," she said. "But you deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you - not someone who just happens to be around."

Morris watched her for a few beats. "That's fair."

"I'll see you later," she said. She stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed for the door.

Morris thought about stopping her - trying to convince her - but knew it was no use. He furrowed his brow a moment before smirking. "You just gonna walk out like that?"

Callie stopped short and looked down, remembering she was only dressed in his shirt. She gritted her teeth - so much for making her exit, but she couldn't help but grin at her foolishness.

She turned around. "What? I don't think it'll attract any attention - do you?"

Morris chuckled and stood up. "You stay here."

Callie sat at his table while Morris was gone. It had been months since she'd seen him last, and seeing him again brought back so many memories.

Their relationship had always been the definition of "it's complicated." When Morris had been nothing more than a wagon driver for _The World_ , carrying every edition across the bridge and distributing it to the Brooklyn newsies, she'd caught his eye and vice versa. Thus began a tempestuous relationship with Spot Conlon intervening every time Callie came back to the lodging house crying. Morris and Callie were both fluent in arguing and it had been their preferred form of communication, thought they always made up with the same amount of passion with which they fought.

After a particularly bad fight, Morris had gone home and found comfort in someone who didn't fight back. She was a sweet, mild-mannered girl who never raised her voice and always gave him a smile. She also never challenged him, never made him feel like he could be more than what he was. He ended it and intended on coming clean with Callie and starting over. Before he had a chance to confess the truth to Callie, word of Morris's new girlfriend had already made it back to Brooklyn. She refused to see him, and Spot bought her papes for her until Morris got promoted. Neither of them had ever entirely gotten over the other.

The door unlocking broke Callie from her memories and she turned to see Morris walking in. On the table, he set down an outfit from the secondhand store downstairs and a bottle of hair dye.

Callie picked up the bottle and looked at it.

"I know a guy," said Morris, giving a small shrug.

Callie looked at him. No matter what, he was going to make sure she was taken care of. She stepped over to him and put her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered, for more than just the hair dye.

Morris held her close for several moments. "You're always welcome," he whispered.

Shortly before noon, Callie walked out of Morris's apartment, fully dressed and with a full head of dark brown hair.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to years of being close to Spot Conlon - and a few months of dating him - Callie knew exactly where to find Jack Kelly. He was hanging around his usual corner, calling out fake headlines and quickly moving on before a customer could realize that his far-fetched headline was nowhere to be found.

"You're gettin' sloppy, Kelly," she said, walking up to him. "Used to be, you'd improve the headlines. Now you're just makin' 'em up."

Jack smirked when he saw Callie approach. "I like to think of it as me evolvin'."

"Yeah, right."

"What brings you to this side of the bridge? Spot need somethin'?"

Callie hesitated. "Nah, I ain't with Brooklyn anymore."

"Oh." Jack's guarded expression relaxed.

"I, uh, actually need a favor." She shifted uncomfortably.

"Sure."

"I had a bad tangle with Snyder. Landed me in the Girls' Refuge for a week and now I'm outta money. The afternoon edition comes out soon and I promise I can get it back to you by supper time."

"Tell you what," said Jack. "After lunch, I'll buy a stack of papes for us, and if you sell with me, we'll split 70/30 and call it even."

Callie paused, remembering how big of a flirt Jack Kelly was. But she was broke and he was still a safe option. "Deal."

Jack spit in his hand and Callie did the same before shaking his hand.

"So whaddya do to get yourself locked up?" asked Jack, jerking his head for her to follow him.

"Stole an apple." Callie rolled her eyes. So far it seemed he was buying her lie, for which she was grateful.

Jack nodded knowingly. "That'll do it," he said. "You hear about the last time I got outta there?" He grinned over at her.

"Every newsie from here to Coney Island knows that story," said Callie. "You're a man with a hell of a lotta luck, I'll give ya that."

Jack walked up to a soft pretzel vendor and held up two fingers. "As well as the skill to shimmy down a rope made of bed sheets to the street below." He paid for the pretzels and handed one to her.

Callie looked at the pretzel and then up at him. "Thanks," she said, not expecting such a gesture.

Jack shrugged as though it were nothing. "You got a place to stay?" he asked before taking a bit of his pretzel.

"Not yet." Callie ripped off a piece and ate it.

"Our roof's pretty comfortable."

Callie nodded, taking another bite. "Thanks."

"Hey." Jack nudged her and she looked over. "It don't matter what went down with Spot. You're still a newsie and newsies gotta stick together, yeah?"

Callie felt a small smile grow on her face. "Yeah."

"Come on. Afternoon edition should be out soon." Jack turned and they headed toward the _World_ building.

Callie began to feel hopeful about her new life. Of all the newsies in the city, Jack's had the reputation for being the most welcoming. Most other groups didn't take too well to outsiders.

They walked through the circulation gate and Callie slowed, seeing Oscar behind the counter. She glanced up at the window to Morris's office, knowing he was in there working. She got in line with Jack.

"Don't worry about the Delanceys," said Jack, seeing her apprehensive looks. "They're annoying, but harmless."

They slowly inched forward in line as until they were at the front. "Hundred papes," said Jack, putting down his money.

Callie glanced up at Oscar. He shoved the papers toward Jack, doing a double-take when he saw her. She bowed her head, hoping he wouldn't say anything.

"What are _you_ lookin' at?" Jack asked, grabbing the papers. He turned and walked out of the circulation yard and Callie followed him.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon selling papers. It felt good to be back out on the street, calling out the headlines once more. Between Callie, who'd been taught by Spot, and Jack, who was best in Manhattan, they made quick work of their stack.

"What do ya think we take a break for supper?" Jack asked. He looked down and counted the rest of their papers - only ten left. "We should be able to make quick work of these after we eat."

"Yeah," Callie nodded.

"Come on." Jack jerked his headed and turned down the street Jacobi's was on. "I know a good place." Callie followed him down the street. "Some of the other fellas will probably be there too. You can meet them."

"I've met Race," said Callie. "He and Romeo are always walkin' through Brooklyn to get to the track."

"Good. So I don't have to prepare you for Romeo." Jack chuckled.

"He's no worse than you." Callie smirked.

Jack chuckled and opened the door to Jacobi's for her and walked in.

"You get yourself a new girl, Kelly?" Albert called.

"Ah, shut it," said Jack, waving him off. "Fellas, this is Callie. She's gonna be sharin' our rooftop for a bit."

Callie was greeted with various salutations. She gave a little wave and slid into a chair across from Jack.

"This is Crutchie, JoJo, Tommy Boy, and Elmer," said Jack, pointing to each guy at the table in turn. "Elmer, you might wanna snatch her up as a sellin' partner before anyone else does. We all know you can use the help."

The boys chuckled good-naturedly, clapping Elmer on the shoulder.

"Ain't you Spot Conlon's girl?" JoJo asked.

"I used to be," said Callie in a tone that signified the end of that conversation.

"So where did Jack find you?" asked Crutchie.

"You make me sound like a lost dog," Callie chuckled.

"Well, if the shoe fits," said Jack and Callie gave him a smack on the arm for it.

Crutchie laughed. "She reminds me of Piper."

Callie looked at him for a beat. "Piper Barnes?"

"You know her?" Crutchie asked with a grin and his eyebrows raised.

Callie nodded. "Yeah. Her fella, Ray, and Spot used to be good friends. They'd come to Brooklyn for poker games all the time."

"She's my sister," Crutchie said proudly.

"Yeah?" Callie gave him a grin. "You got a good sister."

"Spot never invited you to no poker games, did he, Jack?" asked Elmer.

"Ah, shut up," said Jack.

She fell into easy conversation with the boys, feeling at ease with them. There was never this level of acceptance with outsiders in Brooklyn. Amongst themselves, the Brooklyn newsies were the best of friends and banter was exchanged easily, but all of that was shut down at the sight of a stranger. Here, she was welcomed like one of their own.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: _Thank you to the lone "Guest" who reviewed my last chapter! It meant a lot to get a review! :-)_

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The next morning, Callie climbed down the fire escape as she heard the newsies walking out of the lodging house. She jumped down to the street and turned the corner, falling into step with the boys. Her share of the profits from selling yesterday with Jack was in her pocket. It wasn't much to work from, but she knew how to save.

She was sure that by then Morris had talked to Oscar and explained everything. She hoped Oscar wouldn't say anything. The quickest way to lose the trust of the newsies was to be a friend of the Delanceys.

"Anybody home?" She saw a hand wave in front of her face. She blinked and turned, seeing Elmer walking next to her. "I was talkin' to you, but you must've been somewhere else."

"Sorry," Callie smiled a bit sheepishly. "Got a lot on my mind, I guess."

"I was wonderin' if you wanted to partner up," said Elmer. Callie raised an eyebrow at him. "I gotta real good corner up on Houston and Bowery."

"You really as bad at sellin' papes as they say?" asked Callie. The boys had razzed him quite a bit about it the night before.

Elmer shrugged. "I sell all my papes just fine."

"All ten of 'em?"

Elmer looked down. "I sell more'n that," he mumbled.

Callie nudged him as they walked. When he glanced up, she gave him a joking wink. They walked into the circulation yard and got in line with the rest of the boys. "How much money you have on you?" she asked.

Elmer dug into his pocket and pulled out twenty-eight cents. Callie took twenty-five of it and pulled twenty-five of her own.

Elmer frowned. "No, some of that is for lunch," he said.

"Trust me," she said quietly.

When it was their turn, she set the fifty cents on Wiesel's box and proudly announced. "Hundred papes."

She heard the newsies reaction behind her:

"You know you're sellin' with Elmer, right?"

"Guess Elmer needs some more stuffing for his pillow.

"She'll learn her lesson soon enough."

Wiesel gave her a skeptical look. She just raised an eyebrow until he put the money in his box and Oscar handed Elmer the large stack of papes.

"You sure about this?" Elmer asked, seriously second-guessing his decision to ask her to partner up with me.

"Yep," said Callie. "If Jack can move a hundred a day, so can you."

Elmer was quiet, the weight of the papers in his arm getting heavier with every step away from the circulation gate. "Callie, I ain't never sold this many papes before. I ain't never sold _half_ this many except when the war was on."

Callie stop and turned to him. "Trust me, Elmer. You've got one of the best sellin' spots in the city. If we don't sell all of these, I'll eat the cost of whatever we don't sell."

Elmer blinked at her. "Okay," he said, still doubtful.

"It's all about knowin' who you're sellin' to," said Callie as they continued walking. Once they hit Bowery, Callie found a few stories that would interest the gang members, showgirls, and prostitutes that spent their lives on that street. With a little embellishment, they managed to work their way through a third of the stack before they even got to Houston.

"See?" said Callie. "Now, if we were sellin' to the businessmen and the women who marry 'em, we'd pick other headlines to shout."

Together they spent the remainder of the morning selling their papers. To Callie's surprise, Elmer wasn't nearly as bad as she was lead to believe. He had a big voice and was able to attract the customers, but when people came up to him, he'd fumble or take too long taking the money and handing out the papers when people crowded around him. Some people would get impatient and he'd lose their sale. Callie was able to be there and sell papers to those people.

By lunchtime they had sold their entire stack and split the profits.

"How do ya like that?" Callie grinned at him.

Elmer jingled the change in his hand before dropping it into his pocket. "Not bad at all," he grinned.

"You're not as bad as they say you are."

Elmer shrugged. "I ain't as good at makin' up the headlines as the other fellas."

"Come on." She jerked her head and started walking. "Let's get some lunch."

Elmer walked beside her and they fell into easy conversation. As they turned a corner, Callie stopped short. A policeman walking his beat was wandering toward them. He hadn't seen her yet, but it was only a matter of time. Elmer followed her gaze and it didn't take him long to see what had stopped her.

"This way," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her across the street. They backtracked down the block to an alley and disappeared. "Come on." Elmer started climbing a fire escape and Callie was right behind them. When they got to the roof, they looked down and saw the policeman continue on his way.

"Thanks," she said.

Elmer nodded. "We all been there."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: To my lone "Guest" reviewer, you continue to encourage me to keep posting and, for that, I will!_

* * *

 _July 1899_

Elmer and Callie walked down the street, their easy conversation occasionally punctuated with comfortable silences.

"I love this time of day," said Elmer. The sun had just dipped below the skyline, but there was plenty of light. Callie looked over at him in question. Elmer shrugged. "The day is done. No more papes to buy or sell, but the night is young. Like anything could still happen."

"At least in summer," Callie chuckled. "Come winter and we'll still have a stack of papes to sell when the sun starts to go down."

Elmer was quiet for a moment. "You think you an' me will still be sellin' come winter?"

Callie looked over at him. "You're my partner. Course we will."

Elmer grinned at her.

The past few weeks with the newsies had been the most carefree weeks Callie had ever had - not that they were entirely free of worries, but for street kids surviving in the filthy part of town, they weren't bad. She had found good friends in the lower Manhattan newsies and it felt like a place she could put down some roots.

Callie opened her mouth to say something when they heard an explosion. They both startled and looking in the direction of the noise.

"What the hell was that?" asked Callie.

"Dunno," said Elmer. He looked behind them and saw people on the cross street heading north. "Let's go check it out." They jogged down the street and turned to follow the crowd. They closer they got, the more they could smell something burning.

They turned the corner on the next block and saw a large crowd, many of them holding signs. One of the trolleys was stopped on the tracks and engulfed in flame.

"It's the trolley strike," said Elmer.

Onlookers watched the melee as strike breakers beat on the strikers. It was utter chaos.

"Looks like we won't have to make up the headline tomorrow," said Callie.

"Look," Elmer pointed and Callie followed his gaze. She saw Oscar and Morris among the strike breakers, beating up guys. It turned Callie's stomach to see Morris do that to men. "I didn't have to see this to know the Delanceys stink, but this makes it stick, ya know?"

Callie didn't respond, she just watched. Morris was disturbingly good at busting guys up. Had he always been like that? When had he started working as a hired thug? She took a little comfort in her choice to not get back with him, knowing what she now knew.

The protest didn't last long. The fire engines wailed and Elmer had to pull Callie out of the way. The trolley was extinguished and pulled away by another trolley, and the strikers eventually scattered to lick their wounds until their next demonstration. Oscar, Morris, and their colleagues made rounds to make sure no more trolley workers were sticking around to cause anymore trouble.

As Morris passed them, he paused at the sight of Callie. He walked up and looked over at Elmer before looking back at Callie.

"Looks like it'll be a good sellin' day for you tomorrow," he said with the sarcasm he usually saved for the newsies.

"You're disgusting," said Callie.

Morris shrugged. "I made more tonight than I do workin' a month at _The World_."

Callie held his gaze for a few more beats before she turned around. "Let's go get some supper," she said to Elmer.

Elmer cast one more look at Morris before he followed her. "Do you know him?"

Callie shrugged. "We see him all the time at the circulation yard."

"Yeah, but you've never talked to him," said Elmer. "He talked like he knew you."

Callie just gave a noncommittal shrug. "I'm hungry," she quickly changed the subject. "Let's see if the boys are at Jacobi's."


	8. Chapter 8

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 1_

"'New Newsies Price, 60 cents for 100.'"

"What's it say?"

"Is that news?"

"It is to me!"

"They jacked up the price of papes!"

The newsies were furious, and Callie couldn't blame them. She stayed near the back of the group as the boys were busy talking. She looked over to Morris with a frown.

Morris slightly shook his head with a small shrug. She hadn't spoken to him since the night of the trolley fire a week before - what was she looking to him for now?

Callie glanced over at the newsies and, seeing them still distracted, walked over to the window. "What the hell, Morris?"

"You think I had anything to do with that?" he asked. "I just found out myself."

"You can't do anything about it?"

"Like what?" Morris frowned. "I'm just a _disgusting_ cog in the machine."

"STRIKE!"

Callie slightly startled at the shout and turned around.

"The newsies of Lower Manhattan are officially on strike!" they heard Jack said.

"That's not good," she said.

Morris looked from Jack to Callie, his face impassive. "Stay far away from it, Callie," he said.

Callie looked back at Morris, trying to read his face. "Morris, please," she shook her head, "don't."

"I won't have any choice."

"They're kids!" she lowered her voice to a loud whisper. "These aren't grown men trolley workers striking." Morris shrugged. "I'll talk to Jack. Make him see reason."

Morris nodded at Davey. "Looks like he's already listening to someone."

Callie followed his gaze to the new kid that had only arrived the day before. She sighed. This was no time to be part of a group that was going to draw attention to itself. Cops were certain to be drawn to something like a newsies strike and Callie was sure to be locked up again in no time.

"What are you gonna do?" Morris asked.

Callie looked back at him. "I'm a newsie. And newsies gotta stick together." She hesitated. "You?"

Morris shrugged. "Whatever my bosses tell me to do."

"Morris…" She slowly shook her head.

"I don't got much of a choice, do I?"

Callie chewed on her lip. She glanced back at the newsies who were pouring out of the circulation yard. Jack was high up on the marquee writing "STRIKE" on the headline board.

"You shoulda stayed with me when you had the chance," said Morris.

Callie frowned at him.

* * *

Callie walked into Jacobi's as Jack was assigning people to territories to go spread the word. She'd hoped to slip in unnoticed, but just as she was sliding into the chair next to Elmer, she heard her name.

"Callie should go to Brooklyn," Race said. "She can convince Spot."

Callie looked up and then looked at Jack with a small shake of her head.

"Nah, nah, me and Davey got Brooklyn," said Jack. Callie slowly exhaled, grateful that she dodged that particular bullet. She wasn't ready to face Spot and the memories the Brooklyn streets would bring back.

"I saw you talkin' to the Delanceys," Elmer whispered once Jack was distracted talking to the reporter that had come in.

Callie looked over at him, trying to read his face for a bit to see what he was getting at. "I thought maybe they could help us."

Elmer gave her a look as though he didn't believe her and was trying to read her. She kept her face as blank as possible. "You think I don't notice the look Oscar gives you every mornin'?" whispered Elmer. "Or that fact that Morris is always there when you buy your papes? He never used to come down."

Callie watched him, her mind racing to come up with a lie or distraction that would make him drop it. She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe we should find 'em girls. They probably could use it."

Elmer gave her a look that said he didn't quite believe her, but he dropped it.


	9. Chapter 9

Race and Tommy Boy walked amongst the sea of pedestrians heading up town. The trolley strike made the city streets more crowded than usual.

"Midtown didn't seem too keen on strikin'," said Race.

"Maybe we'll have better luck with the East Side," said Tommy. "If we can get them, maybe Midtown will change their minds."

"We still gotta worry about Brooklyn."

"That's up to Davey and Jack."

Tommy chuckled. "Can you imagine how Davey is gonna react to Spot?"

Race laughed. "Spot's gonna scare him right outta his pants."

They walked along the edge of Central Park. "Ah, the East Side," said Tommy. "Air always seems fresher up here."

Race grinned. "And sweet Piper Barnes."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sweet as a lemon."

"Least she's easy on the eyes," said Race, making sure his shirt was buttoned and his hat was straight.

"We shoulda brought Crutchie," said Tommy. "She'd never say no to Crutchie. You think she'll join?"

Race shrugged. "Hard to say. Only one way to find out."

* * *

Piper stood on top of a bench, holding her papers by her side, and addressed the small group of newsies that surrounded her. "Things are gonna be tough for a little while, but we'll make it through. We always do. If anyone needs help, you come to me."

"All right, you heard the lady!" yelled a large newsie standing next to her. "Time to sell those papes!"

The East Side newsies dispersed. Piper hopped off the bench. "You let me know if you heard of any problems, yeah?" she asked Tiny, her right hand man, who was anything but what his nickname implied. His 6'3" frame, muscles, and natural scowl intimidated all who didn't know him.

"Always do. You worried?"

"A little."

"Piper, your newsies would follow you to hell and back if you asked 'em to. They know you're gonna take care of 'em. - you always have. You got nothing to worry about."

Piper gave him a smirk. "Thanks, Tiny."

Tiny gave her a tip of his hat before he walked away. Piper shifted the papers in her arm and walked down the street to her selling spot. She yelled the headlines, putting everything she had into selling. With the price increase, she couldn't afford not to sell all her papers.

She made it through a third of her stack before she saw two newsies approach her.

"Well, look who it is," Piper said, straightening her back. "What brings you boys this far uptown?"

"Spreadin' the word," Tommy Boy said. "We're goin' on strike!"

Piper raised an eyebrow and threw a glance a Race. "Who is?"

"All of us," said Tommy. "Jack told us to spread the word to all the newsies of New York."

"This is Jack's idea?"

"Well, sorta. Davey tells us what to do."

"Who's Davey?" Piper frowned.

"David Jacobs," said Race. "He and his brother Les sell with us now."

"Since when?"

Tommy took his hat off and wiped his forehead. "Yesterday."

Piper raised her eyebrows. "You're takin' ideas from a newcomer?"

Race shrugged. "It was Jack's idea. You know Jack. Once he gets an idea in his head, he won't let go. Davey is just tryin' to steer him straight."

"What's everyone else doing?"

"Midtown is waitin' to see what you do," said Race. Nothing wrong with improving the truth a bit.

"You talk to Brooklyn and Queens?"

"We got people over there talkin'," said Tommy.

"If you ain't got Brooklyn and Queens, you got nothin'."

"Havin' the East Side with us will go a long way to convincing Spot and the others," said Race.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Don't talk to Spot, talk to Callie. She can convince him of anything."

Race shook his head. "Callie's with us now."

Piper raised her eyebrows. "Really?" She thought for a moment. "Huh." She was quiet for a few moments, tapping her fingertips against her stack of papers. "If we lose, we lose everything. Scabs will take our sellin' spots and we won't be able to get 'em back."

"Come on," said Tommy. "You know Ray would've joined us."

Piper gave him a murderous look. Race frowned at him and slapped him on the back of the head.

"Yeah, well Ray ain't in charge no more, is he?" snapped Piper.

"Sorry," said Tommy. "I wasn't thinkin'."

"Damn straight you weren't thinkin'. Who the hell are you to tell me what Ray would or wouldn't have done?"

"He didn't mean anything by it," said Race.

Piper brushed past them. "Why don't you two get lost."

"So you ain't joinin' the strike?" Tommy asked, disappointed.

Piper stopped, took a breath, and turned to face them, considering. "I'll think about it."

Race nodded. "That's all we ask."

Piper returned the nod. "By the way…how's Crutchie?"

"He's doin' okay," said Tommy.

"Keep an eye on him," Piper said. "Especially if you're goin' through with this strike. Jack is gonna have his hands full. Let me know if there's any trouble."

Tommy nodded.

"See you boys around."

Tommy and Race walked back down the street and Piper went back to selling her papers. The last she would sell for some time, though she didn't know that yet.

* * *

Callie pulled the heavy iron door open. Leave it to Morris to frequent a place without a decent front door. She walked down the stairs and into the bar. She looked around and spotted him sitting at the bar by himself. She slid onto the barstool next to him.

"They send you to parlay with me?" asked Morris.

Called rolled her eyes. "They don't know I know you," she said. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

"It'll all blow over in a couple days when they realize nothin's gonna change. And I'll get to bust some skulls while I'm at it." He smirked, taking a drink.

Callie looked at him, expressionless, for a beat. "Those are my friends," she said.

"And they're strikin' against my bosses," said Morris.

"Morris, I'm serious."

Morris over up at her, his smirk gone. "What do you expect me to do?" he asked. Callie didn't say anything - what was there to say? "Gettin' you outta Bellevue wasn't cheap and I got debts to pay now."

Callie watched him for a few moments. She couldn't argue with that.

"Look," he said, his voice softer. "I don't regret doing what I did for you, even if we ain't together. Knowin' you're outta that place is how I sleep at night. But I don't got a much of a choice here."

Callie sighed. "I know," she whispered.

"The goin' rate for scabs is three bucks plus whatever you make from sellin' papes," said Morris. Callie looked at him once more. He shrugged. "In case you know anyone who's interested."

"Piss off." She slid off her barstool, knowing their conversation wasn't going anywhere.

"Just do me and yourself a favor and stay far away from it, okay? Cops are drawn to strikes like flies to manure. I don't wanna see you locked up again."

"I'll be fine," she said, walking out.


	10. Chapter 10

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 2_

"Callie."

Callie looked up and saw Jack and Davey standing off to the side. Jack jerked his head for her to come over. She walked over to them.

"Yeah?"

"You think you could talk to Spot for us?" Jack asked, shifting his feet.

Callie shook her head. "That's not a good idea."

"Look, this strike ain't gonna work without Brooklyn's help, and everyone knows Spot always listened to you."

"Yeah, listen _ed_. In the past. He's not gonna want to see me now."

"Can you at least try?" Davey asked.

Callie looked at him. "Trust me…he's done listenin' to me."

Davey sighed, his hope dashed.

"Looks like we got bum information about a strike happenin' here today." Callie tensed at the familiar voice and turned around. Her and Morris locked eyes for a moment, but his facade didn't break. The Delancey brothers had plenty of practice breaking up strike demonstrations with real unions. Breaking up a newsie strike would be child's play to them.

"Hey," Elmer said, walking up behind Callie. "We missed you at supper last night."

Callie hesitated. "I had to take care of a few things," she said vaguely, walking through the circulation gate. She stood with the rest of the newsies, not moving. She watched Morris and knew he was watching her too, as if both of them daring the other to make a move. She kept her eyes on him while Jack made his plea to the scabs. She'd been half-tempted to be one of them, knowing no newsie would soak a girl scab. But over the past month, the lower Manhattan boys had wormed their way into her heart. They gave their friendship willingly and expected nothing in return.

As soon as the scabs threw their hats in with the newsies, and things got chaotic, Morris grabbed Callie's arm and pulled her through the side door and up to his office.

"What are you doing?" asked Callie once he'd closed the door to his office.

"It's gonna get ugly down there," said Morris. "And the cops are already on their way."

"How do you know?"

"Because we were told to call 'em."

"Don't you hurt those boys!"

"I don't have much of a choice here." He got to the door in two quick strides and opened it once more.

"Morris, you're better than this!" Her volume cause him to pause and look at her. She hadn't intended to raise her voice that loudly. A few beats of silence passed between then, the noise down below tuned out. "Don't do this," she added softly.

For a moment, she saw him hesitate - _really_ hesitate. For a moment, she could've sworn he nearly stayed up there with her. For a moment, she saw who he used to be.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come. "Stay in here until it's all over," he said and then he was gone.

She stepped across the office, hiding behind the curtain so she couldn't be seen from below, but so she could watch what happened.

* * *

"Oh good," Elmer's face melted into an expression of relief as Callie walked into Jacobi's. He walked over and pulled her into a tight hug. "We couldn't find you after the fight. We thought you mighta gotten arrested."

Callie's stomach turned with the guilt, knowing she'd been safe in Morris's office while the newsies had been getting beaten. "Yeah, I managed to escape," she said quietly. Elmer pulled back and Albert pushed out a chair for her with his foot. "You guys look like you really went through the ringer," she said, sitting down.

Finch nodded. "Those Delanceys have some tough friends."

"Where's Jack?" Callie looked around, realizing why it was so quiet.

"We think he got arrested when they got Crutchie," said Specs.

A little hope dared to rise in Callie's chest. Without Jack to keep them going, the strike probably wouldn't last very long, which meant no more of her friends getting beaten up, and less chance of her running into a cop who recognized her.

"Hey," Elmer nudged her gently, watching her expression. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said Callie, forcing nonchalance. "It's just…strikin's a dirty business, you know?" Elmer nodded. "Davey and Les cut and run too?"

"Nah, they just went home. Buttons too."

Callie nodded.

"So what are we gonna do now?" asked Specs. The newsies were quiet, none of them knowing what the next step should be.

"I think that's a question to sleep on, Specs," said Callie, standing up. "I'm headin' back to the lodging house and getting some sleep."


	11. Chapter 11

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 3_

Albert burst into Jacobi's, out of breath. "Piper Barnes is on her way down here!"

"Really?" asked Race, standing up.

Albert nodded, hand on his knees, catching his breath. "She's got a handful of her newsies with her too. They're headin' down Third Avenue."

Callie perked up a bit. Piper would bring some much-needed sense to the situation.

Tommy looked at Race. "You think she heard about Crutchie gettin' taken away?"

Race shrugged. "I don't see why else she'd be on her way down here," he said, then smirked. "Unless she saw our picture in the pape and decided to join us after all."

"The East Side is comin'?" Davey asked, standing up. "That's good, isn't it?" He looked around at the other newsies, who didn't look too thrilled.

"Well…" Elmer said uncertainly.

"Let's just say she's gonna be none too happy to hear that Crutchie got landed in the Refuge," said Specs.

"There's a girl leading a group of newsies?" Katherine piped in.

"Yeah, but this ain't no normal girl," said Finch. "She's—"

Just then the door burst open. "Where's Kelly?" Piper demanded.

None of the newsies said anything. None of them wanted to tell her that since their protest at Newsies Square, their leader was nowhere to be found.

Piper looked around the room. "What? Cat got all your tongues?" They all certainly looked like they'd been through the ringer. Black eyes and bandages all around.

Davey took off his hat and stood up. "Miss Barnes, my name is David Jacobs," he said, holding a hand out to her.

Piper crossed her arms. "So _you're_ Davey, huh? The rookie who's callin' all the shots?"

"Well, um, not really, I mean, I…" Davey could feel his face get warm as he dropped his hand. He wrung his hat in his hands.

"Uh-huh," said Piper, walking past him. She walked over to Race. "So what gives? Why am I hearin' rumors about a crippled kid getting roughed up and tossed in the Refuge during a strike?"

Race rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, Crutchie got a sore deal today."

"So why wasn't anyone lookin' out for him?" She looked around at the other newsies.

"Jack was," said Finch.

"And where is Jack?"

"Um…" said Davey. "We…can't seem to find him."

Piper barked out a laugh. "One little scuffle and the strike leader cuts and runs." She shook her head. She looked over at Tommy. "And you were wonderin' why I didn't jump at the chance to join the strike."

The newsies all looked at each other uncomfortably. Piper looked from him to the other newsies in the restaurant. "So what's the plan for the rest of the strike?"

She was met with silence.

She shook her head. "Unbelievable. You really expect other newsies to join in on this when you don't know what the hell you're doing?"

"Can't you give these guys a break?" asked Katherine. "They've never done something like this before!"

"Who are you?" Piper frowned.

"Katherine Plumber of the _New York Sun_ ," she said. "I did the story on the strike." She proudly held up the copy of the _New York Sun_.

Piper raised her eyebrows. "Congratulations," she said, unimpressed.

"So have you come down here to join us?" asked Davey.

"What did Brooklyn and Queens have to say?" asked Piper, her eyes running over the newsies in the room, doing a double-take when she got to Callie.

"Queens will go with whatever Brooklyn decides," said Davey. "As for Brooklyn…Spot wants us to prove that we ain't gonna run when the goin' gets tough."

Piper chuckled, as if that were genuinely funny. "He really said that, huh?" She looked over at Callie, who slowly shook her head.

"Not…in so many words," said Davey. He wasn't about to tell Piper, in front of the other newsies, that Spot had nearly laughed him and Jack out of Brooklyn.

"Look, Davey, you're new, so let me spell somethin' out for you. Every other month, some union goes on strike, and we get to read about it in the papes. They never work. Strikes end in jail time, bribes, scabs…people even die. And I ain't sacrificin' the lives of my newsies when Kelly runs away at the first sign of trouble."

Davey sighed and sat down once more.

Piper walked over and sat down across from Callie as the newsies went back to talking amongst themselves.

"I'm assuming there's a story behind you living in Manhattan with brown hair," she said.

"Oh, is there ever," said Callie.

"You gonna spill?"

Callie opened her mouth, but closed it as Katherine came over and took a seat. "You know, I'd love to get a girl's perspective of the strike," said Katherine, opening her notebook.

"We were in the middle of a conversation," Piper snapped at Katherine.

Katherine tensed at her tone and slowly closed her notebook. Without a word, she stood up and walked away.

"Was that necessary?" asked Callie.

"What?"

"She's sweet," said Callie. "You coulda been nicer about it."

"I don't have time for nice anymore," said Piper. "So what happened with Spot?"

Callie glanced around. "Not here," she said standing up. Piper followed her lead and the two girls walked out of the restaurant.

* * *

Two miles and the whole truth later, Callie finished her story - from the breakup with Spot, the attack, Bellevue, Morris, falling in with Jack's boys, and finally to hiding in Morris's office during the protest.

"Well, shit," said Piper, processing everything Callie had spilled to her. "You've got yourself in quite a pickle."

"You're tellin' me."

"I hope you're not countin' on my advice," Piper chuckled. "Coz you're not gonna like it."

"You're gonna tell me anyway."

"Damn straight. Forget Morris and stick with the newsies."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done, Piper."

Piper gave her a look. "You said yourself you were disgusted with what he did to the trolley strikers and newsies."

"I am! But he's also doin' it for the money to payback for springin' me from that hellhole. I'm a girl, okay? I have feelings."

"Even after what he did to your friends? My brother?"

"I'm not proud of it."

Piper raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Then I dunno what to tell ya."

They turned down Duane Street, heading toward the lodging house. "You gonna try and bust Crutchie out tonight?" asked Callie.

Piper shook her head. "They've doubled up their security since Jack escaped. It's no use tryin'. Best I could do is try and at least visit him after dark."

"I'm sorry, Piper," she said.

Piper shrugged and they climbed the fire escape to the lodging house roof in silence.


	12. Chapter 12

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 4_

Piper, Tiny, and a handful of East Side newsies stood outside _The World_ gates. Tiny stood to the left of the gate, Piper to the right. Piper had her arms crossed, leaning back against the wall. Several East Side and Manhattan newsies were milling around outside the gates.

Davey, Katherine, and Les turned the corner and the took in the sight of all the newsies.

"Are they showing up to picket or buy papes?" asked Katherine.

"Not sure," said Davey.

She looked at Davey. "What are you gonna do?"

Davey sighed. "Feed my family."

Davey walked through the crowd, toward the gate. He saw Piper and Tiny standing near the gate. He kept his head down and started to walk past them.

"Givin' up so soon?" Piper asked.

Davey stopped. "I gotta feed my family."

Piper scoffed. "I'm sure glad we didn't throw our hat in the ring," she said. "Just another failed strike. Another disappointment for these boys."

"Well what do you expect me to do?" Davey snapped.

Piper shrugged. "Guess I expected more from the strike leader."

"I'm not the strike leader."

Piper raised an eyebrow and pushed herself off the wall to face him. "You sure about that?"

Davey sighed. "My family is depending on my income."

Piper moved in closer and lowered her voice but kept her tone serious. "And mine is depending on this strike," she said. "I saw Crutchie last night."

Davey swallowed. "How is he?"

"Awful. But he asked me to do one thing. He asked me to join the strike."

Davey's face froze in an expression of surprise.

"Too bad there's no strike to join." Piper turned and walked across the square.

Davey sighed and walked to the window where Wiesel and Oscar were waiting.

Katherine chased after Piper.

"You know, I'd still love to get a girl's perspective," said Katherine. "For another article."

Piper raised an eyebrow. She gave Katherine a once over and glanced back towards the newsies. "So what's your story?"

"What do you mean?" asked Katherine.

"You're bettin' on a lame horse here," said Piper, gesturing towards the boys mingling around the square. "We've tried strikin' before. It didn't work then and it won't work now."

"Then how come you're here now?" asked Katherine.

Piper swallowed, watching the boys and Callie line up, with Davey at the front. She watched him approach the window and she sighed.

"Damned if I know."

* * *

Davey slowed as he approached the window. He looked over at Callie. She shook her head. "It's not worth it," she whispered. "Not unless you wanna see more boys arrested and beaten."

He walked up to the window and hesitated when he saw Wiesel's expression. Wiesel was fidgeting. His eyes were darting around the crowd of newsies, unsure as to whether they were going to demonstrate or buy their papes. Oscar looked similarly worried.

Davey straightened his back and turned, walking determinedly out of the gate.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Callie whispered to herself.

Davey walked up to Piper as she was talking to Katherine.

"Let's do it," said Davey.

Piper nodded whistled to Tiny from across the square. Tiny turned and Piper gave him a nod. Tiny rallied the East Side newsies and brought them over.

"They're all yours," said Piper.

Davey gave her a grateful grin. He stood up on a nearby bench. Several of the Manhattan newsies who walked away with Davey gathered around as well. Callie stood rooted to her spot. She looked from Wiesel and Oscar, back toward the crowd gathered around Davey. She turned and looked up at Morris's window. She could see him watching from above.

"No hard feelings," she whispered before turning and walking out of the circulation yard to the crowd of newsies.

Davey cleared his throat, but no words came out. He held up his hands as if to make a big declaration, but his mind went completely blank. He felt the familiar burning on his face whenever faced with talking to a group of big, mean newsies that looked like they wanted to eat him for breakfast.

Piper rolled her eyes and jumped up on the bench next to Davey. "Fire, Spit, head back home. Tell the rest of the newsies up there we're strikin'. No one buy papes, no one sells any papes. Get scrap wood from the yards to make signs. Raid the wagons. Send boys to Harlem and the Bronx. Let them know we're joinin' the strike with or without Brooklyn. If they don't wanna join…well, you know what to do."

"No," Davey grabbed her arm. "We don't want violence."

Piper looked at him for a beat, then rolled her eyes. "Fine. If they don't wanna join, then let them sell their papes. Make sure you protect each other. No one goes anywhere alone. The rest of you help with the picket lines."

The newsies cheered and dispersed to make signs and spread the word.

Piper hopped down and looked at Davey. "You're welcome." With that, she walked off.

"She's a piece of work," mumbled Davey.

"Hard to believe a sweet guy like Crutchie is related to a…girl like her," said Katherine.


	13. Chapter 13

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 7_

"He was hiding out in Irving Hall the whole time?" asked Piper as she and Davey walked down the street. She shook her head. The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings and the lamplighters walked the streets lighting the street lamps that hadn't yet been replaced with electricity. People began to retreat into their apartments and houses.

Davey nodded. "Tomorrow he's going to talk to Pulitzer and he'll be at the rally to speak."

"Good." Piper nodded. "Sounds like things are back on track. I went over and talked to Conlon today just to make sure he and his boys were coming."

Davey looked over at her in shock. "You went to talk to Spot Conlon?"

"Yeah. He said he'll be there."

"Wait…you _talked_ to Spot Conlon? You just waltzed on over to Brooklyn and asked him if he was coming?"

Piper smirked at him. "Once you've been Ray Falconi's girl, no one scares you."

"Who's Ray Fal—" but a club hitting the back of his knees cut him off.

"Dav—" Piper began, but a large hand covered her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist. She felt herself being lifted and held against a body. She heard Davey behind her and her captor as she was dragged into the alley.

She was thrown to the ground.

"Who the hell—" but a kick to her stomach shut her up. She wheezed, trying to get her breath once more. She looked up and saw Davey on the ground. Two large figures moved around in the darkness. She was lifted a few inches off the ground by her collar.

"I outta give you a limp to match you brother's," said a rough, unfamiliar voice.

Piper looked over and saw another figure grab Davey by his collar and punch him.

"What do you want?" she wheezed out.

"We know you two are leadin' this strike," said a second voice as Davey was thrown to the ground.

Piper felt a foot on her thigh begin to press down. A club came down and cracked on her calf. She cried out in pain.

"Leave her alone!" Davey yelled.

A strong arm wrapped around Davey's neck in a choke hold so he couldn't move and couldn't look away. "We're gonna make you watch everything that happens to this one."

"Let her go!" Davey managed to squeak out through the arm around his throat.

"You two better call off this strike," said the first voice. "Call your newsies off the bridges," another hit to her leg, "call off the rally," another hit to her leg, "or we're goin' after your brothers next."

"Yeah…they won't be hard to find," said the second. "One of them is already in the Refuge. And we could easily grab the kid off the street and rough him up real good."

"You stay away from them!" Piper yelled.

"You got until tomorrow night," said the first, taking his foot off Piper's leg. With that, the men disappeared deep into the alley.

Davey fell to the ground after being released, wheezing to catch his breath.

Piper rested her head against the ground, trying to breathe through the pain.

For a while, both of them laid on the wet, dirty ground, trying to recover. Piper wince as she pushed herself up to sitting.

"You okay?" she asked as she sat back against the wall. She heard him breathing heavily. "Davey?" He'd been recovering for longer than usual - longer than it would take a normal person to catch his breath.

She could barely see him through the dark. He was sitting up, leaning back against the wall, his hands over his face. She scooted and dragged herself until she was sitting next to him. She recognized the signs. She put her arm around his shoulders.

"You're okay," she said softly, "we're okay, Davey."

Davey nodded, but he couldn't catch his breath.

"Breathe when I tell you," she said. She put her hand on his back. "Breathe out," she said as she slowly moved her hand down the length of his back. "Now breathe in," as she moved her hand up his back. "Out." She moved her hand down.

She sat with him for the next few minutes doing that until he could breathe and had calmed down.

Davey moved his hands down, resting his forearms on his knees, his head still bowed.

"Better?" she said, holding her stomach.

Davey nodded.

"Good," she said, patting his back before putting her hand on her bruised calf. She sat back against the alley and looked up at the lines of laundry that covered the sky.

"Thanks," said Davey. Piper nodded. "I'm sorry." Piper looked over at him. "I just…I sometimes get…you know…these attacks."

"Anxiety," said Piper.

Davey looked over at her. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Ray used to get them." She looked down.

"Ray Falconi?" he asked.

Piper nodded. "He was the leader of the East Side newsies. The Spot Conlon of the East Side - feared and respected. Loved by his newsies, but hated by everyone else. But behind closed doors, he'd get these really bad panic attacks."

"What happened to him?" Davey asked.

Piper was quiet for a few moments, still staring at the darkening sky. She'd never talked about it with anyone before - not even Callie. But there was something about Davey - something safe. "He jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge."

Davey looked over at her. "Oh. Piper, I'm so sorry."

Piper just shrugged. She grabbed onto a crate and pushed herself up. She winced when she tried to stand on the leg that got hit.

Davey slowly got up. "Come on. My place isn't too far from here," he said. He took her arm and put it around his neck.

"No," said Piper. "I'll just head to the lodging house. I've been sleepin' on the roof."

"Nonsense," said Davey. "How you gonna limp home on one good leg?"

Piper gave him a look and then rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Davey helped her walk the two and a half blocks to his building. Piper looked up. "Please tell me you're not on the top floor," she said.

Davey grinned. "No, we're on the third."

Davey and Piper took the stairs one by one.

"You think it's broken?" Davey asked as Piper winced her way up the stairs.

Piper shook her head. "No. Just really bruised."

"I'm so sorry, Piper," Davey said.

"Can't say I didn't warn you this would happen," she said, looking over at him.

They got to the Jacobs' front door. Davey opened the door and swung it open and helped Piper limp in.

"My God, what happened?!" Mrs. Jacobs said, rushing to them.

"We got jumped on the way home, Ma," said Davey. "Ma, this is Piper Barnes."

"Come, sit down." Mrs. Jacobs pulled a chair over and Piper sat down.

"What's going on?" Mr. Jacobs hobbled into the living room, still on his crutch.

"We're okay, pop," said Davey, wetting a cold cloth and putting it on his shiner. "Just some guys trying to get us to end the strike."

"I was afraid this would happen," Mr. Jacobs said sadly.

"Les!" Mrs. Jacobs called. She knelt in front of Piper. "Don't you worry, dear. We'll get you cleaned up and good as new." Les walked into the room and his mouth dropped open. "Les, close your mouth. Start boiling some water for the tub so Davey and Piper can get cleaned up."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Just do what Ma says," said Davey.

Les went into the kitchen and began pumping water into a big pot. Davey got a huge basin out of the closet. "Piper Barnes is at our table!" Les whispered to Davey, who just rolled his eyes.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Mrs. Jacobs asked.

"No, thanks," said Piper. "I'm just a little bruised."

"Nothing is broken?"

Piper shook her head.

"Well, despite the circumstances, it's so nice to finally meet you," said Mrs. Jacobs. "Ever since the strike started, it's been Piper-this and Piper-that from this one." She gestured to Davey. Piper glanced at Davey who face palmed. "It's so nice to put a face to the name."

Piper gave her a polite grin. "It's nice to meet you too."

"Davey, make up the couch for tonight," said Mr. Jacobs. "Les will sleep out here and Piper can sleep in Les's bed for tonight."

"Oh no," said Piper, shaking her head. "I can't inconvenience you like that."

"Nonsense," said Mr. Jacobs, giving her a grin. "We'd be happy to do it."

"You'll be first in the tub," said Mrs. Jacobs. "Davey can get cleaned up after you. I have a nightgown you can borrow."

"Davey, add a little more water to the stew," said Mr. Jacobs. "Enough so we have enough for Piper."

"Stew again?" Les complained.

"Les," said Davey in a tone that said not to push the issue.

Piper glanced up at Davey, who looked from Les to her and then turned away.

* * *

Later that night, Piper lay in Les's bed, staring at the ceiling. At first she couldn't sleep because she had been listening to the Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs hushed tones in the living room. Mr. Jacobs was firm that they should support their sons, while Mrs. Jacobs begged him to forbid the boys from striking if they were going to come home beaten and bruised. After the Jacobs went to bed, she reflected on the evening. The Jacobs had an incomprehensible, never-ending hospitality. They made sure she'd been the first one in the tub to clean off. Then after her body and hair were clean, Mrs. Jacobs lent her a nightgown and braided her hair while Davey cleaned off. They sat her down and fed her, making her feel like part of the family. Mrs. Jacobs cleaned her clothes and hung them to dry over night.

She thought back to Davey's expression all through dinner, almost like he had been embarrassed to have her there. Their apartment was clean and tidy, but tiny. Their clothes were clean, but obviously second-hand and often-mended. It was evident that the Jacobs had to struggle to make ends meet, and the strike had only amplified that struggle.

Piper could feel her stomach and leg beginning to get sore. In the tub, she had seen the bruises begin to form. She got out of bed as quietly as she could and limped over to the window. She looked out at the dark, quiet street.

"You can't sleep either?" Davey whispered from the other bed.

Piper looked over and saw him sitting up. She shook her head. Davey stood up and walked over and looked out the window with her.

"You've got a good family, Davey," she said. "I hope you know that. Not many folks would support their kids goin' on strike."

Davey nodded. "Yeah."

He looked over at her in the dim moonlight. Her expression was softer than when she would talk to the newsies. They were close enough he could smell the light scent of soap in her hair. She didn't seem as intimidating in this light. She was just another girl.

"Piper?"

"Hmm?"

"You ever find out why Ray…you know…?"

Piper shook her head. She looked down at the sill, running her finger along a crack in the wood. "New Year's morning, Spot Conlon crossed the bridge and found Ray's shoes with his hat sitting on top of them." She paused. "Spot said they always leave something behind. You know, before they jump."

Davey watched her tell the story. She showed no emotion. She kept her voice even.

"What did you do with them?"

Piper turned away from the window. "I burned them." With that, she turned and limped back to the bed. From her tone, Davey knew the conversation was over.

He watched her crawl into bed. For a few brief moments throughout the night, he saw a side of Piper never shown to anyone else. Her guard had been down, like the wall she'd built up around herself had begun to crumble just around the edges.

Davey wanted more.


	14. Chapter 14

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 9_

"This rally better work," said Callie as she walked down the street next to Elmer.

"You don't think it will?" asked Elmer.

Callie shrugged doubtfully. "Tough to say," she said. "Especially since Jack disappeared."

"Yeah, but they found him."

"And where is he now?" Callie looked over at him. Katherine and Davey had come back with news that they found Jack hiding out in Irving Hall, but no one had seen or heard from him since.

"Uh oh," said Elmer, looking ahead. Callie followed his gaze and saw Morris walking towards them. "You wanna cross the street?"

Callie shook her head as they slowed to a stop and Morris closed the distance between them.

"How's the strike goin'?" he smirked at them.

Callie narrowed her eyes at Morris as Elmer straightened his back. "Better'n you think."

"That so?" Morris said. "So you must know about the meeting Jack had with Pulitzer."

"M-meeting?" Elmer asked, looking at Callie.

"To negotiate ending the strike, I'm sure." She never broke eye contact with Morris.

"Oh yeah," Morris nodded. "Specifically, arresting anyone caught strikin' and tossin' them in the Refuge." Callie stared at him hard. "He's even gonna get a pile o' cash for speakin' against the strike."

"You're lying," said Callie.

Morris watched her for a moment. "When have I ever lied to you?" His voice had softened a bit. Callie watched him for a few beats before he tipped his hat and continued on his way.

Callie exhaled and closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes, she saw Elmer staring hard at her.

"What?" she frowned.

"What was that about?"

Callie shrugged. "He's probably just tryin' to—"

"Look, I ain't stupid, okay?" said Elmer, raising his voice. Callie looked at him, startled. She'd never heard Elmer say anything in anger. "I saw the way he was lookin' at you. I saw you talkin' to him when they jacked up the price of papes."

Callie swallowed the lump in her throat. She loved her life with the newsies, and she loved selling with Elmer, but she was certain that would all go away if she ever admitted to being even friends with Morris. She couldn't risk losing that friendship.

"I know him from a couple years ago," she said with a shrug. "He would drive the wagon to Brooklyn and sell up papes." Part of the truth was better than nothing. "He was our version of Weasel until he got promoted."

Elmer watched her carefully. "Okay," he said at length.

Callie suddenly got a sick feeling in her stomach. She didn't like lying to Elmer - he was a good guy and didn't deserve it.

"Come on. We're late for meetin' the fellas."

* * *

Callie walked through the circulation gate into the fairly empty yard. She walked through the side door and up the stairs to Morris's office. She didn't bother knocking and walked in.

Morris looked up from his paperwork when he heard someone come in.

"That was a hell of a stunt you pulled," she said.

"You mean giving you a heads up that you're about to be stabbed in the back?" asked Morris.

"I mean doin' that in front of Elmer."

Morris shrugged, as if he didn't see what the big deal was.

Callie sighed. "These are the only friends I have anymore. I am _not_ risking losing them."

Morris raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? The _only_ friends, huh? I woulda thought that fella who busted you outta Bellevue was a friend of yours."

"Are you gonna keep hangin' that over my head?"

"I'm not hangin' it over your head," he stood up. "I'm tellin' you that your friends aren't in as short supply as you may think." Callie watched him for a beat. "I never stopped bein' your friend."

Callie sighed. "Well, bein' friends with you is a death sentence to bein' friends with the newsies."

"Then it looks like you got a choice to make."

Callie frowned at him. "Are you really telling me to choose between you and the newsies?"

"No," Morris said sharply. "I'm tellin' you to grow up and be honest about what you want. Be honest with your friends. Then let _them_ decide whether or not they want you in their life. Because I promise you, if they really are your friends, they won't care if you're friends with me."

"You beat them up!"

"Yes. While they were loitering and destroying _World_ property. You think they paid for those papes they ripped up?"

Chastened, Callie lowered herself into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Morris walked around his desk and sat in the one next to her.

"This is the way the world is," he sighed. "It's never going to be easy and it's never going to be simple. But you're not doing them or yourself any favors by hiding anything."

Callie was quiet for a few moments. "Is it all true? All that stuff you said earlier?"

Morris nodded. "Ask Katherine. She was there."

"Why was she there?" Callie frowned.

Morris briefly considered telling her. "I think you should ask her. But suffice it to say, you're not the only one with a little secret."


	15. Chapter 15

_July 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 10_

Irving Hall was still relatively empty, with only the Lower Manhattan and East Side newsies filling it. Piper, Callie, and Davey stood near the stage.

"This whole thing is falling apart at the seams," Piper muttered to Callie.

"My whole _life_ is fallin' apart at the seams," said Callie. "So is _he_ coming?"

"Jack?" asked Davey. "I thought he'd already be—"

Piper cleared her throat to cut Davey off and shook her head. She turned back to Callie. "We're hopin'," she said. "Without Spot, none of the other boroughs will show up."

"Great." The sarcasm was all but visible.

"There's gonna be hundreds of newsies here," said Piper. "He probably won't even know you're here."

Davey nodded over Callie's shoulder. "Speak of the devil."

Callie turned and saw Spot leading a group of newsies into Irving Hall. Ever composed, he didn't skip a beat when he saw Callie.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Piper smirked.

"Hey, I'm a busy guy," said Spot. He nodded in greeting at Davey before his eyes landed on Callie. "Hey Callie."

"Hi," she said.

Spot turned his attention back to Piper and Davey. "So where's Kelly, huh?"

"I dunno," said Piper. "Davey and Katherine were the ones that talked to him." She turned to Davey.

"We…are waitin' on him," said Davey.

"But he is comin', right?" asked Spot.

"Yeah, yeah he's coming," said Davey, though it was evident he was nervous. "I'm going to see if Medda has seen him." Davey stepped away, grateful to be away from Spot.

"This is exciting, isn't it?" Katherine smiled, walking over.

Callie looked at Katherine, warily.

"It sure is," said Piper, watching Callie.

"Katherine, can I talk to you?" Callie jerked her head off to the side. Katherine followed Callie out of earshot of Spot and Piper. "Is there somethin' we should know?"

Katherine's smile faded. "What do you mean?"

Callie paused. "I heard you were in that meeting with Jack and Pulitzer."

Katherine paused. "Well, I wrote the article on the strike…"

"Come on, Katherine. I'm a girl of many secrets. I know when someone is hiding something."

Katherine sighed and glanced at the others. "It's not something I'm proud of, okay? And it's not something I want getting around to the others. Especially tonight." Callie nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Joseph Pulitzer…is my father."

Callie watched her for a few beats, her face stoic. "Well, I can't blame you for not wanting that known."

Katherine watched her, wary. "You're not angry? Jack was pretty furious."

Callie shook her head. If she'd had a bigger stake in the strike, she might've been upset, but knowing she had her own secrets, she had no right to be. "Nah," she said. "We all have our secrets."

Katherine nodded at her, a small smile forming. "You know one of mine…are you going to respond in kind?"

"I better not see it published."

"Of course not."

Callie paused for a moment before answering. "I used to…be with one of the strike breakers."

Katherine's eyebrows raised. "Who?"

Callie wrinkled her nose, embarrassed to admit it. "Morris Delancey."

Katherine thought for a moment. "I know him," she said. "He was one of the men who took Jack away."

Callie furrowed her brow. "Speakin' o'which, Morris told me Pulitzer bribed him."

Katherine shook her head. "He did, but Jack won't go through with it. He cares about the boys too much." Callie nodded and Katherine watched her. "And if Morris told you that, it sounds like he's more than just a guy from your past." She raised her eyebrow in a question.

"One secret is all you're gettin' tonight," Callie smirked.

Davey began speaking from the stage and they turned their attention up there.

* * *

Irving Hall had emptied pretty quickly with angry newsies storming the streets, most of them heading home. Only a handful remained.

"You were supposed to be takin' care of him!" Even in the face of betrayal over the strike, Piper had a different set of priorities. She stood toe-to-toe with Jack, as Davey and Callie looked on. "When I brought him here six years ago, you promised me you would look out for him!"

"And for the past six years, I have!" Jack yelled.

"Then where were you a week ago?"

"Things were chaotic. Papes was flyin' all over, the bulls came…we had to scatter."

"And the one kid who needed lookin' after got arrested."

Jack sighed. "Piper, I said I was sorry."

"Then you disappeared."

"I went to see him."

"Not good enough."

"Not good enough? Not good enough?!" Jack yelled. "Who's his sister? Who _should_ be the one takin' care of him?"

Piper put a finger in his face. "Don't you pull that with me, Kelly!"

"Then get outta my face for doin' a better job than you ever could!" Jack slapped her hand away from his face.

Piper clenched her teeth and moved her hand back to slap him but paused, made a fist, a put it by her side.

"You're not part of this strike anymore, Kelly," said Piper. "And believe me, we're gonna win this one. And you're gonna have no part in the victory."

"This strike is gonna fail just like all the other ones did," said Jack.

Piper frowned. "You know why I'm here? Because that kid in the Refuge asked me to. I wanted no part of this strike. I was going to stay out of it. But Crutchie is depending on us. He's depending on you. And you let him down." She punctuated her point with a hard poke to his chest.

With that, Piper turned and walked away, brushing past Davey, who stood watching Jack.

"Davey," said Jack, but Davey just turned away, following Piper.

Callie remained. Jack looked at her, at a loss.

"What was I supposed to do?" Jack asked angrily, as if she'd accused him. "Pulitzer threatened to arrest 'em all unless I put an end to the strike."

"Sometimes you just can't win," said Callie, feeling for him.

* * *

"Hell of a night," said Elmer when he saw Callie walk out of Irving Hall.

Callie looked over at him. "I thought you left," she said.

Elmer shrugged. "Had to make sure you got home safe."

She gave him a smile and they fell into step with each other as they headed for the lodging house.

Elmer shook his head. "I can't believe he sold out. It ain't like him to stab us in the back like that."

"Morris did warn us," she said.

Elmer looked over at her. "You think Jack sold out coz they were gonna arrest us if he didn't?"

Callie shrugged. "Sounds like something Pulitzer would pull."

Elmer was quiet for a few moments. "Kinda strange that Morris would warn us about that…"

Callie looked over at him. If there was a time to come clean, it was now. "Look, Elmer, I didn't tell you the whole truth yesterday about Morris."

"I figured."

Callie chewed on her lip, feeling even worse.

"So what's the story?"

As they turned the corner onto Duane Street, Callie stopped, not wanting to risk anyone else overhearing. "Morris is a friend of mine. A good friend. He and I used to…be together. But that was a long time ago."

Elmer watched her for a few beats. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I didn't want to lose you guys as friends," she said. "Everyone hates the Delanceys - not that I can really blame them, but there's no way the newsies will want me around if I'm friends with Morris."

Elmer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's where you're wrong," he said. "Callie, even if you were datin' Morris, we wouldn't've cared. We may not've understood or liked it, but…" he shook his head, "it wouldn't've changed anything. But what does change things is that you lied about it. More than once. Even after I asked you directly, you didn't bother tellin' me the whole truth."

"I didn't want to lose my partner," she said quietly. "My friend."

"Friends don't lie to each other."

Callie sighed and closed her eyes, the guilt gnawing at her stomach.

"Come on," said Elmer. "It's late." With that, he continued walking toward the lodging house with Callie following a few steps behind.


	16. Chapter 16

_August 1899_

 _Newsies Strike, Day 11_

"No," said Piper before taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Come on, Piper," said Davey, sitting across from her in Jacobi's. "We gotta do this. This is bigger than anything that's ever been done before."

"Yeah, I've heard that song before."

"We're talking a city-wide strike," said Davey. "Every kid who's workin'. Stable boys. Factory workers. Shoe shines. Bike messengers. Newsies. We're all strikin'. Katherine's written up another article and tonight they're gonna break into the cellar of _The World_ building to get it printed.

"I want nothin' to do with Kelly or that Pulitzer girl," she said. "I talked to Conlon this morning. I'm out. I'm goin' home tonight and I'm gonna sell papes in the morning. So is Brooklyn."

"Piper," said Davey. "We need your newsies. And Brooklyn. And Queens. We need them all to distribute this one edition."

Piper shook her head. "No."

"This is our last big push," said Davey. "This could end the strike"

"That's what we thought about the bridge protests and the rally, but those ended in disaster." She lowered her voice, "or maybe your bruises have healed quicker than mine."

Davey sighed and looked around at the other newsies. He knew it was pointless trying to convince them to do anything without Piper's or Spot's support.

Piper stood up. "I'm headin' uptown," she said. "If anyone wants to soak me, they can go for it." She dug into her pocket and put her last few cents on the table for her sandwich. She headed for the door.

"They made mistakes, Piper," said Callie, standing up. "It doesn't mean this is a lost cause."

Piper's eyebrows shot up and she whirled around "You're _for_ the strike now?"

Callie swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest at Piper letting that little secret go in front of the newsies. "I'm for giving people second chances."

Piper looked from Callie to Elmer and back to Callie before she turned around and opened the door.

"So what should I tell Crutchie?" Davey called out, watching her.

Piper paused for a beat, the door half-opened. For a heartbeat, Davey dared to hope she would turn around, but she just continued out the door and down the street.

* * *

Callie knocked on the door. At that moment, a small group of the newsies were all in the cellar of the _World_ building printing up Katherine's article. She was supposed to meet Race around the back to be let in to distribute the paper at three in the morning.

In the mean time, the guilt that resulted from her conversation with Elmer had been eating away at her, and she needed to talk to the only person who'd be willing to listen - coincidentally, the only person she'd want to talk to.

Morris opened the door. His hair was slightly ruffled - probably from running his hands through it often, causing those few locks to fall across his forehead. He still had his vest on and his shirt sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, though his top collar button was undone and his tie was loosened. Damn him. No one should look that good while that disheveled.

"Awfully late for a young lady such as yourself to be knocking on the door of an eligible bachelor," he said.

"Oh, they've written worse about me in the papes," she said. Morris opened the door wider and she walked in.

"Is this when you come begging for mercy because the strike is failing?" he asked, gesturing for her to sit down in one of the softer chairs in the sitting area.

"No, it's when I come and complain about how much I've screwed up," she said, sitting down.

"Oh, that's my favorite song," he said, sitting across from her. "Do I get to hear the words, 'Morris, you were right' uttered?"

"Not in a million years."

"Let me guess - the newsies turned their back on you when they found out your best friend is their enemy?"

Callie rolled her eyes. "You're not my best friend. And no - they're better than that."

"Then what?"

Callie sighed, running her fingers along the frayed arm of the chair. "Elmer was really nice about it. Just really hurt that I lied. Now things are tense between us."

Morris nodded slowly. "So I _was_ right."

"Oh, shut up."

Morris watched her as she sat silently and avoided looking at him. She watched her fingers play with the fraying threads on the arm of the chair, she put her chin in her hand and looked out the window, and she sucked on her teeth, inspecting his kitchen from a distance. Finally, her eyes landed on him watching her.

"I shouldn't've come," she said, standing up.

"Then why did you?" Morris asked, curiously, not accusingly. He stood up so she'd have to go past him to get to the door.

Callie shook her head. "Because I'm an idiot."

The corner of Morris's mouth tugged up. "I coulda told you that," he teased.

Callie sighed and moved towards the door, but Morris reached out an arm and wrapped it around her middle. "Wait," he said softly. "Really…why _did_ you come?"

"Damned if I know," she said, pushing his arm to the side and storming out.


	17. Chapter 17

_August 2, 1899_

The drinks flowed, the laughs roared, and the smoke circled overhead as the newsies of New York celebrated their victory over the newspaper owners.

"Say it," Davey grinned as he sat next to Piper at a table.

"No," Piper deadpanned.

Crutchie laughed, watching them.

"Come on," Davey said, holding his hands out. "Just say it."

Sitting at a table, surrounded by seemingly every newsie in New York City celebrating the end of the strike, Davey sat grinning at Piper, while she remained stoic, her arms crossed.

"It's four little words," said Davey. "'Davey, you were right.'"

Piper rolled her eyes. "Unless my information is incorrect, it was Jack's idea to go on strike, not yours."

Davey dropped his hands and laughed, rolling his eyes.

Spot walked over with three beers in his hands and set them down. "Congratulations," he lifted his glass. Piper picked hers up and clinked glasses with him and they both took a drink.

Davey picked up the beer and took a sip, his face screwing up at the taste. Piper and Spot chuckled.

"Takes some gettin' used to, yeah?" said Spot.

"I'd say," said Davey, setting the beer down.

* * *

"So Callie, tell us," said Henry. "How does a nice girl like you get mixed up with the Delanceys?"

Callie rolled her eyes, but gave a smile. Once word got out that she was a friend of the Delanceys, the boys were surprisingly accepting. Callie suspected them finding out Katherine was Pulitzer's daughter had shocked them enough and her friendship with Morris didn't seem as big of a deal anymore. She also didn't discount Elmer's support. The boys saw he was standing by her and they respected that.

"Well, ya know, sometimes you gotta scrape the bottom of the barrel," she joked.

"Hey, Callie?"

Callie turned and saw Spot standing a few feet away. She turned back to her table of Elmer, Henry, Buttons, and JoJo. "I'll be back." She stood up and followed Spot to the back bar, where the bartender was serving watered-down beer for the newsies.

"How you been?" he asked, leaning against the bar.

"I got no complaints."

Spot cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? That ain't what I hear."

"What do you hear?"

Spot watched her for a few beats. He didn't need to answer - he knew what she'd been up to. "You left me because you wanted to be with Morris. Why ain't you with him?"

Callie sighed. "It's complicated."

"Don't look it," he said. "You like him. He likes you enough to spring ya from Bellevue."

Callie shook her head. "We ain't even together and it's just like before. We fight whenever we see each other - and that's not including everything he did to the newsies during the strike."

Spot shrugged. "It ain't like the newsies didn't expect it," he said. "It was the guy's job." He gestured to her table. "Look at 'em now. They couldn't care less about you an' him bein' friends."

Callie looked over at her table where the boys were laughing and joking.

"Don't make it for nothin'," said Spot. Callie looked at him. "Our fight. Those weeks without you. Don't make it for nothin'."

"You're a better guy than you get credit for," she said.

Spot smirked. "Don't I know it."

Callie rolled her eyes, but grinned.

"Come on." Spot grabbed her hand. "Let's dance." Callie grinned and let him lead her to the dance floor.

* * *

"Listen," said Davey, after they were alone at their table. "I know you were gonna head back up to the East Side tomorrow, but my parents wanted me to ask you if you'd like to come have dinner at our house tomorrow night."

Piper looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." Davey shifted uncomfortably. "They really like you."

Piper blinked at him. "Really?" she repeated.

Davey nodded. "Sure. And…well, I mean…" he stumbled over his words. He couldn't put into words what he wanted to tell her. How could he tell her he wanted to know more about her? "You're my friend."

Piper paused for a while. "Really?"

Davey couldn't help but chuckle. "Is that all you can say tonight?"

Piper shook her head as if she was shaking the cobwebs away. "Sorry. Um, sure."

"Really?" Davey raised his eyebrows.

Piper chuckled and nudged him.

* * *

Later that night, a knock came on Morris's front door. He opened the door to find Callie on the other side.

"Truce?" she held up a bottle of whiskey.

"Where'd you get that?"

Callie grinned mischievously. "I stole it from Medda's."

Morris smirked and opened the door wider. "And you thought of me. I'm touched."

"Well, I wanted to come see you, but I figured bringing a peace offering couldn't hurt." She walked into his kitchenette and got two glasses, pouring a little into each. She turned around and handed him one. She lifted her glass.

"And what are we toasting?" he asked.

Callie thought for a moment. "Letting bygones be bygones. A fresh start."

Morris watched her for a beat before clinking glasses with her. "To a fresh start." He took a sip. "Mmm," he said, looking at the whiskey. "Medda gets the good stuff." He walked over to his armchair and sat down. "So are all the newsies happy they beat the big, bad Pulitzer?"

Callie nodded, walking over to the ottoman in front of his chair and sitting down. "Yep," she said. "When I left Medda's, the party was still goin' strong."

"And all is forgiven?"

"Seems like it. Only before they start bad-mouthin' the Delancey brothers, they get to give me a hard time for bein' your friend."

"Well, those Delanceys are nothin' but trouble."

"Don't I know it."

Morris looked down into his whiskey. "How's the crip doin'?"

Calle thought she might have seen a shadow of regret cross his face, but he was hiding it well. "He's doin' fine. He's a tough kid."

Morris nodded. Callie was quiet for a moment, trying to get up the nerve to say what she'd come to say.

"Did I ever tell you why Spot and I broke up?"

Morris shook his hand, taking a sip.

Callie chewed the inside of her cheek. "He figured out I still had feelings for you. And not the kind that would just go away. Being with you changed me, Morris." She looked down at her glass. "But then I came over here and screwed it all up."

"Then why didn't you stay here?" asked Morris. "You yourself said we weren't gettin' back together."

Callie sighed. "I panicked. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I was scared. Scared we'd end up right where we ended the last time. Fightin' every time we saw each other…"

"It's what we did best." He held up his glass. Callie gave him a small smile and clinked glasses. "So what about now?"

Callie didn't know how to answer that. He pushed herself to her feet and took his empty glass to the kitchen, where the bottle of whiskey was.

"After all you've done for me and how I treated you through it all…and you're still talkin' to me despite it all…" she shook her head as she refilled both their classes, "I'm never gonna find anyone who loves me like you do."

Morris, in the meantime, had stood up and followed her into the kitchen. "That you won't."

Hearing his voice so close and against her better judgement, Callie turned and looked up at him. Their faces were only inches apart. It was later debated who kissed who, but the fact remained that they both leaned in at the same time.

There had always been something in his kiss that made her want more. Maybe it was the way his arms enveloped her, as if to shield her from the world. Or maybe it was the way his lips were always just tasting hers, promising more. Or maybe it was because she knew he would be safe with him - always cared for, always protected, always loved. Whatever the reason, as soon as their lips met, Callie didn't want to pull away, and Morris didn't either.

Callie leaned into him, relishing every moment of the kiss until his lips pulled back from hers, but they didn't part. Morris looked down at her, his arms still around her.

"Stay," he whispered.

And Callie nodded.


	18. Chapter 18

Davey opened the apartment door and froze when he saw Piper on the other side. Her normally ink and dirt smeared face was scrubbed clean, and instead of her dirty blouse and skirt, she had on an outfit that looked close to brand new. Her hair was even pinned back.

"Piper," he said, taking her in.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Stop lookin' at me like that."

"Sorry," he blinked, opening the door wider for her. "You just look…different."

"Yeah, well you can blame Katherine for that," said Piper, stepping into the apartment. "I went to her for help and this is what she did to me."

Davey raised his eyebrows. "You finally made nice with Katherine, huh?"

"Yeah, she ain't so bad."

Davey closed the door. He smiled a bit to himself that Piper, of all people, had gone to Katherine for help over a simple dinner at his house.

"Is that Piper?" Mrs. Jacobs called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Davey called back.

Mrs. Jacobs walked into the main room. "Ah, Piper." Mrs. Jacobs gave Piper a greeting kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," Piper grinned.

"Come sit down." Mrs. Jacobs gestured to the dinner table. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs sat at either end, and Davey and Piper sat next to each other across from Les. Dishes were passed and plates were filled.

"Are you still staying down here?" asked Mrs. Jacobs.

"For now," said Piper. "Callie and I sleep on the roof of the fellas' lodgin' house. But I'm heading home tomorrow, although Crutchie's been tryin' to get me to stick around here."

"You should!" said Les.

"I understand Crutchie is your brother?" asked Mrs. Jacobs. Piper nodded. "He's a dear. It's a shame a sweet child like him has to suffer from polio."

"Oh, he doesn't have polio," said Piper. "He broke his leg when he was younger and it never healed right."

"How did that happen?" asked Les.

Piper swallowed her bite and then looked down at her plate. "Our father pushed him down the stairs." There was an uncomfortable silence around the table. Piper gave a small shrug. "But he lets people assume it's polio. It's easier." She looked back down at her plate, mentally berating herself for telling the story and killing the mood.

"I broke my arm once," Les chimed in.

"Les." Mrs. Jacobs shook her head. She didn't want to think Piper to think they were downplaying what had happened.

Piper looked at Les, grateful for a change in subject. "Yeah? That must be a story to hear."

"Oh yeah," said Les before he launched into a detailed recounting of the time he broke his arm playing Cowboys and Indians.

Conversation throughout the remainder of dinner stayed light.

"Can I help you clean up?" Piper asked, carrying her and Davey's plates to the kitchen.

"No, no," said Mrs. Jacobs, taking the plates from her. "You're our guest, I couldn't let you do that."

"Then I should probably head back home," she said. "The trolleys will stop runnin' soon."

"Davey, why don't you walk her to the trolley stop?" said Mr. Jacobs.

"Thank you for dinner," Piper smiled as she and Davey walked out of the apartment.

Once on the street, Davey offered her his arm. She hesitated, looking up at him, before she looped her arm through his, resting her hand in the crook of his arm.

"I probably should head toward Katherine's before I head back home," she said. "I need to get my own clothes back."

They headed in the direction of Katherine's apartment.

"Davey, can you not tell the others about what you heard about Crutchie tonight?" she asked. "I'd rather they not know."

Davey nodded. "Of course."

They got to Katherine's apartment and Piper was able to change and thank her for her help. When she was back on the street, where Davey was waiting, she was back in her old, worn clothes.

"There's the Piper I know," he chuckled.

Piper let the corner of her mouth lift a bit at his joke. "You know, the trolleys probably ain't runnin'," she said. "I think I'll just head to the lodging house. I'll go home in the morning."

They linked arms once more and Davey walked her to the lodging house. "You should stay down here longer," he said without thinking.

Piper looked up at him.

"I mean…uh…" he backpedaled, "you know, Crutchie loves havin' you around."

Piper watched him, but he didn't look at her. Had it been daylight out, she was certain she would've seen his cheeks turn pink. She almost asked him if Crutchie the only one who wanted her around, but they arrived at the lodging house and she lost her nerve.

"Thanks for walking me," she said.

Davey nodded. "You should come by the square tomorrow before you leave," he said.

Piper watched him for a beat. "Maybe I will," she said with a small smile. "I can buy some papes to sell on my way home."

Davey grinned at the prospect of seeing her once more.

"Goodnight, Davey." She turned and pulled down the fire escape ladder and climbed up, throwing a look down to him when she reached the metal landing before she continued up.


	19. Chapter 19

_September 1899_

"You really think so?" Elmer asked as he and Callie walked toward Jacobi's at the end of the selling day.

"Oh yeah," Callie nodded. "Every day she walks _right_ past me so she can buy her paper from you." She winked at him.

"Maybe she just doesn't see you…"

Callie rolled her eyes. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that a girl could be sweet on you?"

Elmer just shrugged, but Callie swore she could see his cheeks tinge pink.

"So tomorrow when she comes up to buy her pape from you, I want you to ask her to supper, yeah?" she asked.

"Maybe," said Elmer, not convinced.

"I'll get that maybe to a yes by tomorrow afternoon."

They turned a corner and walked into Jacobi's. Piper, Davey, Les, and many of the boys were already in there.

Callie tilted her head to the side as she walked over to Piper's table. "I would've thought you'd be back on the East Side by now," she said.

"Eh," Piper shrugged. "Tiny can handle 'em for now. I promised Crutchie that I would stay down here a bit longer."

"Uh-huh," said Callie, glancing over at Davey sitting next to her. "I'm sure that's the only reason."

Piper gave her a stoic look, but with a flash of _don't you dare_ in her eyes. Callie chuckled as Elmer sat next to her.

"We actually gotta get goin'," said Davey. "Ma will have dinner ready soon." With that, Davey and Les stood up and left the restaurant. Callie watched Piper's eyes as they followed Davey out of the restaurant. Callie smirked at Piper as someone took Davey's seat in front of her.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Stamos," said a familiar voice.

Callie looked in front of her and saw Dr. Fulton sitting there. Her chest tightened and she felt the rush in her bones to flee. He must have seen it because he held up a hand.

"Before you think of running, you should know that I have police officers stationed at every exit of this restaurant."

"What's goin' on?" asked Elmer. "Who's this guy?"

Callie didn't say anything - her eyes were trained on Dr. Fulton.

"Callie, who is this guy?" Piper asked.

Most of the newsies in the place had gone silent, watching the spectacle, straining to hear.

"You have two choices here. You can come with me quietly, or you can run and they will add resisting arrest to the charges against you."

"Charges?" Elmer frowned. "What charges? Callie didn't do nothin'! She was with me all day."

"Elmer," Callie said quietly, not taking her eyes off Dr. Fulton. "Just let it go, okay?" She took a deep breath. "I'll come with you."

Dr. Fulton nodded. "A wise choice." He stood up.

Callie stood up and looked at Elmer. "Tell Morris what happened," she said. "Tell him to not do anything stupid." She didn't want Morris to think she expected him to bust her out again.

With that, she followed Dr. Fulton out of the restaurant. Immediately a police man came up and put manacles on her wrists and the police wagon drove out of the alley.

"You had it all set up, didn't you?" Callie asked Dr. Fulton.

"Once we found you, it was quite easy," said Dr. Fulton, opening the police wagon door. "You keep a very predictable schedule."

"Piss off," she said, climbing up inside. Through the windows of Jacobi's, she could see the newsies all watching her in shock.

After the police wagon drove away, Elmer ran out of the restaurant toward _The World_ building to give the news to Morris. Piper stood up.

"Where you goin'?" asked Crutchie.

"To talk to Katherine," said Piper. "We need to get Callie a lawyer, or they'll keep her in the Tombs forever or stick her back in Bellevue."

* * *

Within a few hours, Callie was booked and thrown into a cell in the Manhattan House of Detention - or, as everyone called it, the Tombs. She sighed and rested her back against the filthy stone wall. She had a good two months on the outside, and now she was back. It wouldn't be long before she would be dragged into court and once against sentenced to Bellevue for evaluation, just like before. At least she got a chance to make her peace with Morris and Spot before spending the rest of her life behind bars.

Down the corridor, she heard footsteps. She didn't bother to go to the bars to peek through - she knew they weren't for her. However, much to her surprise, she heard the lock turn in her cell.

"Stamos, you got a visitor," said the guard.

Callie furrowed her brow. "Who?"

"Just get out here."

Callie stood up and walked to the corridor. She was put in manacles and led through the corridors and down the stairs into a room with nothing but a couple chairs and a table. A man in a suit sat at a table, going through some papers. He looked over when they walked in.

"Thank you, guard," he said. "You can take the manacles off. They won't be necessary."

The guard took the manacles off her and left them alone in the room.

"Miss Stamos, my name is Jeffrey Clark. I'm your attorney," he said, holding his hand out to her.

"My attorney?" she furrowed her brow, hesitantly shaking his hand.

"Yes," he said. "Miss Katherine Pulitzer hired me to represent you."

Oh, bless that sweet girl. "Oh," said Callie.

"Please," he gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite him and he sat down as well. "First, we are going to file a grievance against the police department in their handling of your first arrest. Were you ever taken to see a judge?"

"Kinda," said Callie. "But they just dragged me into court and the judge read over what happened and had me put in Bellevue."

Mr. Clark nodded, making notes as she talked. "Now, I'm sure you've gone over the story a million times, but can you tell me exactly what happened in the night in question? Now, please remember that I'm your attorney. I'm on your side, no matter what you did. You can't be put in jail for what you tell me."

Callie swallowed. She really wished Morris or Katherine were there - it would make her feel better knowing this was the right thing to do. She took a deep breathe and launched into her story. She told him of everything that had happened that night and everything that had happened at Bellevue - including the escape.

"Good, good," Mr. Clark encouraged, making copious notes. "Even if they try to convict you for escape, we can argue that it was neither your idea nor your responsibility. You were following the orders of a guard, for all you knew. That, coupled with your drugged state, will absolve you of any culpability."

Callie nodded, half of what he was saying went right over her head - but it sounded good.

"So what now?" she asked.

"We will go before a judge and the assistant district attorney," he said. "The ADA will make his case for keeping you put away until your court date, and I will fight to keep you out. You've escaped before, so it's a slim chance, but if we get a sympathetic judge, we could get you out on bail. Katherine has already offered to take you in. Throwing the Pulitzer name around the court room could give us leverage."

"I don't have bail money," said Callie.

"We can get you a bond," said Mr. Clark. "You'll only have to put up a percentage of the bail that way."

"You think it'll actually go to trial?" she asked.

"Oh, it has to," said Mr. Clark. "Unless they decide to settle it with us, which I doubt. You have a right to a fair trial."

"Wow," said Callie. All those people convening to decide whether she was innocent or guilty. "So there's a chance I could go free?"

Mr. Clark looked hesitant. "The best I could argue is that you acted in self-defense. So, technically, there is a _slight_ possibility you could be found not guilty. The more likely scenario would be I work a deal with the ADA to get you a lighter sentence."

Callie nodded slowly. "So there's a very good chance that I could go to jail."

Mr. Clark nodded. "But please know that I'm on your side. I will fight as much as I can to get you as light a sentence as possible."

"Thank you."

"I am going to get right on this," he said, putting his notes into his bag. "First thing will be your bail hearing, which is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The guard will come get you and will take you to the Hall of Justice next door, where I'll meet you. After that, we'll either make a deal with the ADA or set a trial date."

"Thanks, Mr. Clark," she said. "This is…more than I coulda hoped for."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Stamos."

"Um," she said slowly, "would it be okay with you if I wrote a note and you could deliver it to someone on the outside for me?"

Mr. Clark slid a fresh sheet of paper and a pencil over to her. "It would be my pleasure."


	20. Chapter 20

_Morris,_

 _I told my lawyer to find you and tell you that I'm okay. He's going to try to get me a lighter sentence. If I'm in jail, I'll be okay. I can handle myself around the girls. They even have some matrons as guards, so the stuff in Bellevue won't happen again. I'll accept whatever sentence I'm given and pay my debt to society. Don't wait for me. Who knows how long I'll be in here. Just know that I'll always love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Callie_

Morris lowered the letter and looked up at the lawyer. "When's her court date?"

"She has a bail hearing tomorrow," said Mr. Clark. "Hall of Justice, courtroom nine, one o'clock."

Morris nodded. "I'll be there."

* * *

At one o'clock the next day, Callie was ushered into the courtroom and her eyes landed on Morris sitting in the gallery. It gave her a sense of security to have him there, even for just moral support.

Callie didn't know what was happening as the prosecutor, Mr. Clark, and the judge talked. There was a lot of back and forth, until finally the judge banged his gavel and her attorney turned toward her.

"So what's gonna happen?" she asked.

"I got your bail lowered enough so Morris could pay it," he said, ushering her off to the side. "Morris is going to pay the clerk and you'll go home with him. Now, please understand this. Your bail was still quite high, and Morris will get it back, but only if you make all of your court appearances. Do you understand?"

Callie nodded. "I'll make them all," he said.

"Good," he said. "I have a meeting with the prosecutor tomorrow morning. I will come see you after."

Callie nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Clark."

Mr. Clark ushered her out of the courtroom and they waited on the steps of the courthouse until Morris walked out to meet them.

"I will be in touch," he said, shaking Morris's hand.

Morris gave him a nod before Mr. Clark walked away. Morris looked down at Callie and put his arm around her. "You okay, kid?" Callie nodded. "Come on. Let's get you home."

Callie silently walked with him back to his place. "Why'd you do it?" she asked quietly as they walked along.

Morris furrowed his brow and looked down at her. "You expected me to let you stay in jail?"

Callie shrugged.

Morris sighed and shook his head. "Callie, what I've done doesn't even begin to compare to the lengths I'd go to keep you safe."

She looked up at him. "Even after everything I've done to you?"

Morris just chuckled gave her a kiss on the temple.

* * *

After getting word that Callie was out of jail for the time being, Piper allowed her mind to be at ease. She went in search of Crutchie, feeling bad that she'd been ignoring him lately. He had gotten a new selling spot, and Piper walked around looking for it as she sold her papers.

"Piper?" said a voice behind her as she was selling her last paper.

Piper turned and saw Mrs. Jacobs walking up to her.

"Mrs. Jacobs." Piper found herself grinning. "How are ya?"

"I'm doing fine. Just picking up a few things for dinner and to do some baking. Say, why don't you come to dinner tonight?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that," said Piper. "You've been so generous to me already…"

"Don't be silly," said Mrs. Jacobs, taking her by the elbow and walking her towards the trolley stop. "You can help me bake and make dinner."

"Okay," said Piper. She was hesitant, but found herself looking forward to it as she rode the trolley with Mrs. Jacobs.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Davey walked into the apartment and took his hat off. "What a day," he said.

"You know what they say," said Piper. "Summer stinks and winter's freezin'."

Davey spun around and blinked. "Piper." His face broke out into a grin. "What are you doing here?"

Piper stole a glance at Mrs. Jacobs before smirking back at Davey. "Your ma kidnapped me off the street."

"Oh stop," Mrs. Jacobs chuckled and lightly swatted Piper's arm. Piper chuckled.

"Are you stayin' for dinner?" Davey asked.

Piper nodded. "Looks like it," she said.

Davey grabbed a roll off the plate sitting on the counter and Piper turned away.

"Wow, Ma," said Davey, swallowing his bite. "You really outdid yourself this time."

Mrs. Jacobs grinned. "Piper baked those."

Davey looked from his mother to Piper, who was wiping down the counter. She kept her back to him.

"These are really good, Piper," said Davey, surprised.

"Thanks," she said, hiding her smile. "Your ma's a good teacher."

Mrs. Jacobs grinned as she looked between the two of them. "Piper, why don't you take a break? I can take care of the rest."

"You sure?" asked Piper, but Mrs. Jacobs just shooed her out of the kitchen.

Davey jerked his head for Piper to follow him. He climbed out the window to the fire escape, where they could talk without his mother listening in.

"She's really taken a liking to you," said Davey.

"She's sweet," said Piper. "She's a lot like my mother."

"Where is she?"

Piper was quiet for a few moments. "She died."

"I'm so sorry."

Piper shrugged, leaning her forearms on the fire escape railing. "I was only two. They managed to save Crutchie, though."

"Child birth?"

Piper nodded. Davey mimicked her position, leaning on the railing, their forearms touching.

"So what's gonna keep you downtown for the time being?" he asked.

Piper looked over at him. He was the kind of person she wanted to tell everything to. On second thought, he wasn't the _kind_ of person. He was _the_ person she wanted to tell everything to.

Piper shrugged. "With all that Callie is goin' through, I want to be nearby," she said. "Plus it gives me and Crutchie time to spent together."

"I can't believe it about Callie," said Davey, shaking his head. "She's a nice girl…and to think she was capable of _that_."

Piper looked over at him. "You know she was defending herself, right? She would never hurt someone for no reason."

Davey nodded. "It just…I dunno, sometimes I don't really realize what goes on in the streets after we're locked in for the night. Stuff the papes don't really talk about."

Piper was quiet for a few beats. "It's an ugly world out there," she nodded.

"Although I can't say I'm disappointed that you'll be staying down here." He gave her a little grin.


	21. Chapter 21

The next morning, Callie woke up with her cheek against Morris's chest. She didn't care to move. She didn't have to get up that morning - Morris wasn't going to let her out of the house.

"Good morning," he said, when he felt her stir.

"Morning," she said, slightly pulling away from him. He was still in his clothes from the night before. "Sorry…I didn't realize I fell asleep on you."

"It's okay," he said, running his hand through her hair. She looked down - he'd fallen asleep on top of the covers, holding her.

"I'm gonna go to jail, aren't I," she sighed.

"Probably," he said softly. He wasn't about to sugar coat it for her. That wasn't his style. "But you'll still have me."

Callie shook her head and looked up at him. "You'll need to move on," she said. "Find someone who makes you happy."

"You make me happy."

Callie cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. "You're happy when we're bickering at each other?"

"No," said Morris. "But I'd rather spend the rest of my life bickering with you than at peace with anyone else.."

"What if I'm in jail for the rest of my life?"

"You won't."

"I could be."

"Then I'll come visit you every week for the rest of your life."

"Don't make promises you won't keep."

Morris brought his hand up and took her hand. "I intend on keeping this one."

Callie propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at Morris. She had written him off as a lot of things in the time she'd known him, but when it all came down to it - he was the man who loved her. Probably the only one who ever would.

* * *

There was a knock on the door later that night and Morris stood and opened it as Callie finished their dishes from dinner.

"Mr. Clark," said Morris. "Come on in." He opened the door a little wider and let the lawyer into the apartment.

Callie turned around and wiped her hands on a towel.

"Good evening," he said. "I'm sorry, I meant to get here sooner, but I was caught up."

"Not a problem," said Morris. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"No thank you," said Mr. Clark, holding up a hand. "Miss Stamos, I met with the district attorney."

Callie swallowed as she walked over to stand next to Morris. "And?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Seven years on Blackwell's Island."

Callie closed her eyes. Morris put his arm around her and guided her to sit down.

"That's…that's not as bad as I was thinking," said Morris, putting his hands on Callie's shoulders.

"The maximum for manslaughter is twelve and a half," said Mr. Clark. "And they could send her upstate. If we went to trial, I could argue for self-defense, but juries aren't inclined to let a woman go so easily. They'd likely convict and, depending on the judge, she could get an additional sentence. I think seven years is the best you're gonna get."

Callie opened her eyes and nodded. "I can do seven years," she said, though her voice was shaking. Morris gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Mr. Clark nodded. "Very well," he said. "The wagon will be here to collect you first thing in the morning. I have made personal assurances that you won't disappear in the mean time."

"I won't," she said. As tempting as it would be to hop a train as soon as Mr. Clark left, Callie wasn't about to let Morris lose all that money he'd put up for her.

Mr. Clark nodded. "I'll be here as well to ride with you and see you don't suffer any abuses on the way there."

"We appreciate that," said Morris.

With handshakes and farewells, Mr. Clark left. As Morris turned around after closing the door, he saw Callie sitting, tears running down her face.

He stepped over and squatted in front of her, taking her hands in his. "You can do this, Callie," he said.

"I'll be twenty-five when I get out," she said.

"And I'll be twenty-seven," Morris shrugged. "Big deal."

"I'll be an old maid."

Morris chuckled. "Now when have you ever been concerned about that?"

Callie gave a tiny smile.

Morris took her hands in his. "You have me, Callie," he said. "You always will. I'll be right there when they take you away, and when they let you go, I'll be on Blackwell's to greet you."

Callie looked up at him. "Promise?"

Morris nodded. "Promise."

Callie leaned in and kissed him.

* * *

The next morning at eight o'clock sharp, there was a knock on Morris' door.

Callie and Morris shared a look, knowing it was time.

"Just a minute," Morris called, wanting a few more moments of privacy with her.

"If you find someone else, just write me," she said. "So I don't look for you when I get out."

Morris shook his head. "That won't happen," he said, putting his arms around her. "You're it for me, kid."

"Even though I'll be twenty-five when I get out?"

"Mm-hmm," said Morris, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm gonna love you 'til we're both old and gray."

The knock came again.

They shared one last lingering kiss before Morris took her hand and opened the door.

"Ready?" asked Mr. Clark.

Morris looked down at Callie, who nodded. "Ready."


	22. Chapter 22

_September 1899_

Piper took the bread out of the over and set it on the rack to cool. She put the pan with the cake mix in the over.

"How is it you've yet to burn anything?" asked Davey, leaning over to smell the bread.

"Your ma's a really good teacher," she said, closing the over. "Watch, with my luck I don't burn a thing until your brother's birthday cake." She jerked her thumb at the oven. She got the ingredients for the frosting and began measuring.

Just then, Les burst into the apartment. "Davey, the afternoon edition is almost out!"

"We'll be right there," said Davey. "Buy the papes and sell with Romeo or Crutchie until then."

"Why ain't you comin' now?" he asked. "Are you two k-i-s-s-i-n-g?"

"No!" said Davey. Piper snorted her laughter. "Just go sell with Crutchie."

"Okay," said Les. "See you two lovebirds later!" With that he closed the door and pounded down the stairs.

Davey sighed and put his head in his hand.

"He's ten," Piper smirked. "All kids are like that when they're ten."

"I wasn't," said Davey.

Piper chuckled. "That's because you were born 40. But I'm sure I could get some good stories out of your mother about when you were a kid."

"I'd like to hear about when you were a kid," Davey grinned.

She looked down at the frosting she was mixing.

"I was a normal kid, I guess," she said. "Taking care of my dad and brother. Going to school when I could."

"You went to school?" Davey asked, his eyebrows raising.

Piper glanced up at him with a smirk. "It's New York law," she said. "But I couldn't go a lot. I tried getting Crutchie to go, but he couldn't keep up very well, not to mention the kids would always make fun of him."

"Because of the crutch?"

Piper was quiet for several moments, her stirring getting slower. When she spoke, her voice was tight. "When our father pushed him down the stairs, I got a couple pieces of wood and put a splint on it, but it didn't heal right. I was ten - I didn't know what I was doin'." She chewed on her lip. "It's my fault he has a limp."

"Is that when you ran away?"

The timer dinged and Piper turned away. Davey slumped his shoulders. She'd only started the story, and he knew it. He knew there was something more. She took the cake out of the oven and turned off the oven. Davey stood up and walked over to her.

Piper turned around and was about to say 'time to sell?' but was cut short when Davey put his arms around her.

She didn't know what to do. He was hugging her because he felt bad for what she had to go through. For her, it was no big deal. It was life. But the longer he held her, it was as if weight she hadn't known she'd been carrying was lifted from her shoulders. She felt herself relax. She brought her arms up and put them around his middle, hugging him back. She rested her temple against his cheek.

Feeling her head against his and her arms around him made his heart leap in his chest. He wanted to hold her forever, but knew they'd eventually get interrupted. Davey dropped his arms slowly and Piper stepped back.

"We should probably get some papes while they still got some," she said, avoiding his gaze.

Davey nodded. "Let's go."

They walked slowly side by side and he fell into step a little closer to her, letting the backs of his fingers lightly brush hers. It took him a minute to get up his nerve before he reached over and took her hand, half expecting her to pull away. Instead, she moved her hand so their fingers were interlaced, this thumb resting on top of hers.

They walked down the street toward Newsies Square. Right before they turned the corner to where they would see the other newsies, Piper let go of his hand.

He glanced over at her, disappointed, but she didn't look over at him. As they approached Newsies Square, she put another foot of distance between them. Davey saw her back straighten and she became tenser. She wasn't his Piper. She was newsie-Piper. He suddenly realized what had happened. Every time Piper came to his place, she let her guard down a little bit more. His apartment was a safe place for her. She became friendlier, looser, and warmer.

Suddenly, they were about to go around their peers and Piper's guard was slowly going back up. He loved his friends dearly, but in that moment, he didn't want them around.


	23. Chapter 23

"What are you reading?" Piper sat down next to Davey on the sofa. They were alone in his family's apartment.

"Frankenstein."

"Like the monster?"

"Sort of. Frankenstein is actually the scientist. The monster is just the monster."

"What's it about?"

Davey looked down at the book and began reading aloud. "So much as been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein - more, far more, will I achieve;" Piper rested her head on his shoulder as he read, "treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation."

He continued to read as she got up, took the muffins out of the oven, turned off the oven, and set them out to cool.

When she was gone, Davey took his arm and rested it on the back of the couch where she'd been sitting. She walked back over and sat next to him. After a few minutes of him reading aloud, she rested her head against his shoulder once more. He let his arm slowly fall down around her shoulders.

She closed her eyes, listening to the rhythm of his voice. As Davey read, she lost herself in the story. The sound of his voice was comforting.

When he stopped reading, she opened her eyes to see him close the book.

"How come you stopped?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I only read a couple chapters at a time. I like to draw the stories out."

Piper smiled softly. "I like listening to you read."

Davey liked the way she felt with his arm around her, holding her close. Their faces were close, their bodies were closer - she fit perfectly against his side. If he just leaned his head down a few more inches…

The front door unlocked and they jumped apart. Piper stood up and walked into the kitchen.

"We're home!" called Mrs. Jacobs.

"Hi Ma," Davey said, standing up. "How is Aunt Ruthie?"

"Oh, cheerful as ever." Mrs. Jacobs rolled her eyes.

"She's a miserable old crank!" said Mr. Jacobs.

"Mayer!" Mrs. Jacobs gave him a swat on the warm, but even she couldn't help but chuckle.

Mr. Jacobs laughed and helped his wife take her coat off. Davey glanced in the kitchen at Piper. He saw her glance up at him and then look away.

"Piper, it smells delicious in here!" Mrs. Jacobs walked into the kitchen.

"Blueberry and apple cinnamon," Piper smiled, putting the muffins on a platter.

"You are such a dear," said Mrs. Jacobs, kissing her on the cheek. "Be sure to put some in a basket for yourself."

"Davey, will you make sure to get Les when you walk Piper home?" said Mrs. Jacobs.

Davey nodded.

"No, no, Piper," said Mrs. Jacobs, adding more muffins to Piper's basket. "We're only a family of four. Take the rest to the newsies."

"Are you sure?" asked Piper.

"Oh yes. You bought the ingredients, you should be able to take them." Piper gave her a smile as Mrs. Jacobs finished putting the muffins in the basket.

"Thanks for letting me practice in your kitchen," said Piper, picking up the basket.

"You are always welcome, my dear," said Mrs. Jacobs. "It's always a pleasure having you around. How about you come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I'd love to." Piper nodded.

Mr. Jacobs elbowed his son. "Get her coat. Help her with her coat!" he whispered.

Davey put his own coat on and got Piper's coat from the hook near the front door. He walked up behind Piper and opened the coat.

Piper looked up at him in mild surprise and confusion. "Um, thanks." She slid her arms into the sleeves one by one and Davey set it on her shoulders, resting his hands for a moments.

"Goodnight," Piper smiled at the parents.

"Goodnight!" Mrs. Jacobs waved with a smile.

Davey offered her his arm and she took it.

As they walked back to her lodging house, Davey felt every wall that he'd worked so hard to break down slowly go up brick by brick. Her steps became less meandering and more purposeful. Her back became slightly straighter and her eyes more focused.

The whole walk there, he mentally kicked himself - actually, he mentally kicked his parents. They had to pick that precise moment to come home? They couldn't have been delayed 30 seconds?

As they walked along in silence, Davey wanted to say something. He wanted to address it. But what could he say? _Hey, remember about ten minutes ago when I almost kissed you? Can we try that again?_ No way - not on the street like this. Not only was the moment gone, but Piper's guard was already back up. Besides, a first kiss on his couch in a warm apartment that smelled of apple cinnamon muffins was much more romantic that standing awkwardly on a cold street that smelled of garbage and horse manure.

Before he realized it, they were at the lodging house. They came to a stop, both of them wanting to be together as long as possible.

"Thanks for reading," she gave him a small smile.

Davey nodded. "Thanks for coming over. I had a good time."

Piper nodded.

"Piper," he whispered, taking her hand. "You know you can be yourself around the newsies. You don't need to be so guarded around them. If they saw the side of you that I saw, they'd still love you."

Piper bit her lip, unable to meet his eyes.

"Goodnight, Davey." She gave his hand a small squeeze before walking up the fire escape.

Davey sighed and turned the corner to go in the front door to pick up Les.


	24. Chapter 24

"Anyone see Piper?" Crutchie asked at Newsies Square the next morning. "She said she'd sell with me today."

"Not since she left Jacobi's yesterday afternoon," said Elmer.

Davey and Les turned the corner into Newsies Square.

"Heya Davey," said Jack. "Have you seen Piper this mornin'?" He lowered his voice. "Crutchie's been lookin' forward to sellin' with her all morning, but she's no where to be found."

"Maybe check the East Side?" Davey suggested, suddenly feeling like he was missing a limb. The prospect of not seeing Piper made it feel like a part of himself was missing.

Jack shook his head. "She woulda told Crutchie."

 _She would've told me too,_ Davey thought, but knew that the newsies didn't know how much time he and Piper spent together. "We should look for her," said Davey. "We can spread out and see if anyone has seen her."

Jack nodded and turned. "Hey Crutchie," he called. "You sell with us. We'll go find Piper."

Crutchie grinned and hobbled over. The four got in line and got their papes. They sold their way around Lower Manhattan, asking anyone who might've known Piper if they'd seen her.

"Not since yesterday."

"I haven't seen her in days."

"I saw someone crawl down from your roof in the middle of the night last night. Maybe she's got a fella?"

Every answer was more frustrating than the last, none of them giving any indication of where Piper might be.

* * *

"It sounds like you were the last person to talk to her," said Katherine over lunch that afternoon. "How did she seem when you dropped her off?"

Davey thought back to the night before. The smell of baking muffins. The heat of the oven making the apartment warm and cozy. The feel of his arm around her and her body leaning into his side as he read aloud. The way she looked up at him. Their almost kiss.

Crutchie tilted his head, reading Davey's face as he reflected.

Davey shook his head. "She seemed fine," he said. They had such a great evening together, but she was regular Piper when he dropped her off.

"We'll put the word out," said Jack. "But it sounds like she left the lodging house on her own."

"Where would she go?" asked Katherine. "We already know she didn't go home to the East Side."

Crutchie thought for a moment. "I have a few ideas."

* * *

"Gone?" asked Callie. "What do you mean gone?"

"We can't find her," said Katherine, resting her hands in her lap. She'd never been to Blackwell's Island before. Anyone couldn't just walk in and ask to visit a prisoner, but having the last name Pulitzer had its advantages.

"Well…" Callie sighed. "Piper has business all over the place. There's no telling where she might be."

"Crutchie and Davey are going to Brooklyn tomorrow to see if Spot knows anything."

Callie nodded. "Any other news?"

"Elmer misses you," she said. "He says to tell you hello and that papes don't move as well as when you're around."

"Anything else?" Callie asked, running her finger along one of the bars that separated them.

Katherine watched her for a beat. "I haven't seen him around," she said, knowing Callie was asking about Morris.

Callie met her eyes and frowned. "What do you mean?"

Katherine shrugged. "I tried his office, his apartment," she said. "Oscar said he got a second job."

Callie sighed and looked down.

"I'm sorry," said Katherine. She nodded behind Callie. "How are things in here?"

Callie shrugged. "Not all that bad," she said. "I mean, the food is awful, the matrons are mean, and we have to walk in lines wherever we go, but for the most part our time is our own. Sometimes they put us in a room to make shoelaces. It makes the time go by quicker."

"Well, at least you're learning a trade," said Katherine. When Callie met her eyes and gave her a glare, Katherine giggled.

"Are Piper and Davey at least an item yet?" asked Callie.

Katherine shook her head. "Who knows," she said. "Davey needs courage and Piper needs to figure out what's good for her. Until that happens…"

Callie nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

Katherine watched her for a few moments. The gray smock they'd put her in completely washed her out, making her look more sickly than she probably was.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Katherine, feeling helpless. "Anything I can bring you?"

Callie shook her head. "Anything you brought, they probably wouldn't allow in anyway. But if you see Morris…tell him I miss him."

Katherine nodded. "I will. I promise."


	25. Chapter 25

Spot walked out of the Brooklyn lodging house and crossed his arms. "What do you kids want?"

Davey and Crutchie stood on the stoop. "We were just wonderin' if you've seen Piper around, or heard anything of her," said Davey.

Spot stared him down. "What are you doin' in Brooklyn?"

Crutchie swallowed. "We're just lookin' for Piper."

"And you think I'd help you?"

"Uh…" said Davey.

"What, we go on strike together and suddenly you think I'd help ya?"

Davey and Crutchie exchanged nervous looks.

Spot smirked and punched Davey in the arm. "I'm just kiddin' with ya."

"Oh," Davey exhaled with a chuckle of relief. He rubbed his arm where Spot had punched him.

"I haven't seen her," Spot shook his head. "Sorry."

Davey's shoulders slumped slightly. "Well, if you hear anything will you send word?"

Spot nodded. "You got it."

"Thanks, Spot."

Spot punched Davey in the arm as a farewell gesture before retreating back into his lodging house.

From the rooftop, Piper watched Davey and Crutchie walk down the way they had come from, defeated. She clenched her jaw to keep the tears at bay.

Spot walked up the fire escape to where Piper was sitting, one leg dangling off the ledge and hugging the other to her chest.

"They won't be lookin' for you around here no more," he said.

"Thanks," she said. "I owe you one."

"So what's your plan? Hide on my rooftop the rest of your life?"

"You evicting me?"

"No. Stay as long as you want. Not sure how well the East Side will fare, but that's on you."

"They've got Tiny. They'll be fine."

"I know it ain't easy," said Spot, sitting down on a crate. "For any newsie it's hard to find someone who cares about you."

"Is Spot Conlon giving out relationship advice?"

"I'm just sayin' I get it."

Piper knew he did. He'd cared for Callie deeply before she left - he probably never stopped. But all she said was, "You don't know the first thing about what I'm goin' through."

"Fine," said Spot. "But one question - what's the problem? This is Davey we're talkin' about."

Piper raised an eyebrow. "I ain't barein' my soul to you, Conlon."

Spot shrugged. "Fair enough." He stood up. "I gotta get goin'. I got business. Stay as long as you need to, Barnes. I never got to repay Ray while he was alive. The least I can do is help you out."

Piper swallowed. She never wanted to take payment for any of the debts owed to Ray, but she wasn't going to turn up her nose at his hospitality - it was rare enough as it were. "Thanks."

Spot walked down the fire escape, leaving Piper alone with her thoughts. She looked in the direction Davey and Crutchie had walked. It pained her to think of everything she was giving up. Not just Davey and how he made her feel. But Les. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs. Crutchie.

The other night in the Jacobs' apartment scared her. It scared her how much she cared about Davey. It scared her how safe she felt around him and his family. It scared her to think that she could lose that one day.

Ray was one thing. Ray had taken care of her - made sure she had enough to eat, a roof over her head, and that she didn't freeze in winter - but he'd made her pay a price for it. Davey expected nothing and took nothing.

* * *

"Well, Davey, she must really like you," said Crutchie as the two of them crossed the bridge.

"Why do you say that?" Davey asked, pulling his coat tighter against the wind coming off the river.

"She only leaves the ones she really loves." Crutchie winked.

"What are you talking about?"

"You ever hear the story of how I landed with the newsies down here?"

Davey shook his head.

"Well," Crutchie began, "our pop hated me. He'd loved our mama so much and when she died, he blamed me. In his eyes, he only ever had one child - Piper - and he raised her as the son he always wanted. One evening when I was seven or eight, I accidentally broke this vase that was mama's. Pop got real mad and pushed me down the stairs. He just stumbled off drunk, but Piper was there to take care of me. She couldn't take me to the hospital and we couldn't afford a doctor, so she fixed my leg up. If it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't be able to walk at all."

Davey watched Crutchie, amazed that two people could have such different interpretations of the same event. Piper blamed herself for Crutchie's situation, while Crutchie was thankful for her help.

"As soon as I could walk again, Piper brought me to the lodging house," Crutchie continued. "The big guy in Manhattan at the time was Kicks. Piper asked him if I could join his newsies, and he told us to get lost. But this other kid came up to us and said he needed a new sellin' partner." Crutchie grinned. "One guess who."

"Jack."

Crutchie nodded. "He promised he'd look after me."

"So what's this got to do with Piper?" asked Davey.

"She left me down here to protect me. Because she loves me. It was our pop and then that jerk Ray that she stayed with for so long."

Davey furrowed his brow. "She's never said anything bad about Ray."

"She wouldn't," said Crutchie. "He took care of her after she ran away from Pop. But believe me - he was horrible. Ya see, Piper's problem is she takes real good care of everyone else, but takes lousy care of herself. After she brought me down to the lodging house, she went right back home to pop."

"What did he do?"

Crutchie shrugged. "She would never talk about it," he said. "But somewhere along the way she went from sweet and happy to scared and hurt.

"Even then she'd known Ray. She bought pop's pape from Ray every day. Eventually, he convinced her to run away - said he'd take care of her. But Ray was no better than Pop - he just made her think he was. He turned my sister into stone. She wasn't happy. She wasn't sad. She was just…blank. I don't know what he did to her to make her that way, but I know it wasn't good."

Davey shook his head slowly. "I had no idea."

Crutchie looked over at him. "That's why we gotta get her back to you. You're good for her, Davey. She just doesn't know how much she needs you yet."


	26. Chapter 26

_October 1899_

Tap-tap-tap.

Davey, still asleep, turned over in his bed.

Tap-tap-tap.

Davey sighed in his half-sleep. What was that noise?

Tap-tap-tap.

Davey opened his eyes. It couldn't be rain, it was too rhythmic. He sat up in bed and looked at the window. From the moonlight, he could make out the familiar figure of Piper.

"Piper," he whispered. He threw the sheets back and grabbed his nearby pants and pulled them on. He rushed to the window and pushed it open.

"Hi," said Piper, obviously nervous.

"Piper," said Davey, climbing out the window. He pulled her into a hug. Piper closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder.

Davey kept one arm around her waist and cradled her neck with the other. He knew better than to ask questions. Piper would open up when she was ready.

"Wanna sit down?" he asked.

Piper nodded and pulled back enough for them to sit on the step. Davey kept one arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I was really worried."

"I didn't mean to worry you," she said. "I was just afraid that if you knew where I was, you woulda come for me."

"I would have. Why'd you run away?"

"I didn't know how to deal with this." She gestured between them. "I've never been close to someone like you. The other night…spooked me. I'm not used to being in a position where people can hurt me. I didn't like it."

"You know I'd never hurt you," said Davey.

"That's what Ray said too."

"Piper, I'm not Ray."

"I know," she said softly. A cold breeze blew and Piper shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Davey reached inside the window and grabbed the blanket off his bed. He wrapped it around her shoulders, putting his arm around her once more.

"I was with Ray for a long time. He took care of me. He helped me run away. He took me in, taught me how to tell, how to steal food." Piper leaned into him a bit as she told the story. "Everyone loved him. His newsies followed him with more loyalty than I'd ever seen before." She paused. "I told you about how he was different behind closed doors. But it was more than just anxiety attacks. It's not hard to guess what a 16 year-old guy wants with a 14 year-old girl who was completely dependent on him." She was quiet for a moment. "To be honest, I was a little relieved when he…ya know." Davey took her hand. "Around him, if I was happy, then he got suspicious. If I was sad, I was being weak. If I was angry, then I was overreacting. I learned to just not show any of it."

Davey pulled her close, resting his head against hers. "You're not weak, Piper," he said. "You're one of the strongest people I know. You have every right to be happy or sad or angry when you feel that way."

Piper looked up at him. When she saw the worried look in his eyes, she felt tears come to her eyes for the first time in years.

"Then you came along," she said, her voice tight as she continued the story. "You don't expect anything, you don't demand anything…and I found myself wanting to be around you." She looked down at her hands.

"Piper," he whispered, brushing away a tear that had rolled down her cheek. "You're my best friend. I'd never hurt you."

Piper saw his hand sitting in his lap. She took it, holding it between her hands. "I don't want to hurt you either."

He closed his hand around one of hers, running his thumb along the back of her hand. She looked back up at him.

She was taking a gamble with him and he knew it. He didn't want to let her down. And seeing her that way somehow made him braver and more confident.

It wasn't ideal. They were on a freezing fire escape instead of a warm apartment. She had tear tracks on her face instead of a soft smile like the last time. But she was nestled into his side. Her guard wasn't up. She was looking at him.

He leaned in and softly pressed his lips to hers. Warmth flooded through him when he felt her kiss him back.

She leaned into him. She felt his arm tighten around her. She'd never felt this way before - like a huge weight had been lifted and she let him into a secret room in her heart never before opened.

After a respectable amount of time for a first kiss, Davey pulled back. He gave her a small smile and felt his stomach flutter when she returned it. Neither of them said anything - they didn't need to. She rested her head on his shoulder and he held her close.

Davey drank in the moment. It was a big step for Piper to be so vulnerable with him and he wanted to show her all the love, protection, acceptance that she needed.


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning, Piper woke up to the smell of bacon. She sat up and stretched, having had her first good night's sleep in a week. It took her a minute to remember where she was. Davey had slept on the couch last night, letting her sleep in his bed. She looked over at Les' bed, which was empty. She crawled out of bed and put her clothes on. She heard voices in the living room and definitely heard her name said once or twice.

She smoothed her messy hair and rebraided it as she looked out the window. The easiest option would be to just crawl out the window. She wouldn't have to face the embarrassment. She wouldn't have to face the humility of what she did to the Jacobs.

She looked at the fire escape steps where she and Davey sat last night. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her. After disappearing on Davey, he'd welcomed her back with open arms. Her stomach fluttered as she remembered sitting next to him on the fire escape the night before - the feeling of being nestled against his side, the concern and caring she saw in his eyes, the way he kissed her.

Her fingers went to her lips, remembering the kiss. She'd never been kissed like that before - soft and loving.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no way she could leave. She'd be hurting everyone, including herself. She blinked when she realized she didn't _want_ to leave - the urge had been such an instinct.

She turned and took a deep breath before she opened the door.

"You can sell papers before and after school," said Mrs. Jacobs over the sound of sizzling eggs and bacon. "But you are going back to school next week."

"Ma, we can't afford that," said Davey.

"Sure we can," said Mrs. Jacobs. "Your father's going back to work part time and Les will sell papers during the day."

"Why isn't he going back to school?"

"Because I can teach him what he'll learn in 4th grade. You need to finish high school. You're going to be the first one in our family to do so, even if that means I have to get a job."

"Good morning," said Piper, uncomfortable with overhearing a private family conversation.

Davey turned around. "Piper," he grinned, walking over to her.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Jacobs smiled.

"You sleep okay?" Davey asked, taking her hand.

Piper nodded, still uncomfortable. "Yeah. Like a rock."

"Come on over and have some breakfast," said Mrs. Jacobs, dishing up two plates of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"I probably should get goin'," she said.

"Stay." Davey lightly squeezed her hand.

Mrs. Jacobs put the plates on the table. "Have a seat, Piper. You know I won't take no for an answer."

Davey led Piper over to the table.

"You two enjoy your breakfast." Mrs. Jacobs winked.

"Mrs. Jacobs?"

"Yes, dear?"

Piper fiddled with her fingers. "I'm really sorry about missing dinner last week."

Mrs. Jacobs gave her a kind smile and pulled her into a hug. "No apology necessary. We're just glad you're okay."

Piper gave her a smile and sat down to breakfast as Mrs. Jacobs retreated to the back bedroom.

"How'd you sleep?" asked Davey.

Piper gave him a sideways smile. "You already asked me that."

"Oh…right." Davey chuckled.

"So you're goin' back to school?"

Davey nodded. "I have one more year before I graduate."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to study law," said Davey. "After seeing what Crutchie had to go through in the Refuge, and all the injustices the newsies have to suffer, I want to be able to fight for them. Then maybe get involved in city government where I can do some good."

Piper smiled at him. Hearing nothing but silence, Davey looked up and saw her smiling at him.

"What?" he grinned.

Piper shrugged. "Nothing. You're just a really good guy."

Davey reached over and took her hand. They ate a few bites in silence.

"What about you?" asked Davey. "What does the future hold?"

"I don't know," she said, resisting the urge to answer "you." "I never thought to make any plans. I was so busy trying to survive day to day."

Davey nodded. He wanted to ask her, "what about now?" but thought it too forward.

"But," she continued slowly, "wherever I am, I hope you're there too."

Davey looked at her, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Me too."

She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, making his grin grow.

After they finished their breakfast, they got their coats and headed out to sell papers. As they walked down the stairs of the apartment building, Davey slowed to a stop.

"What's wrong?" asked Piper.

"Nothing," he said. "But…well, when we're around the newsies…" Piper knew how she was - he didn't feel the need to elaborate.

Piper paused and nodded. "I can't change overnight," she said slowly. "But I'll try."

Davey looked at her and stepped down to the step she was standing on. He took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She smiled and nodded, squeezing it back. Together, they walked out of the apartment building and into the street, heading towards Newsies Square.


End file.
